A Heroine's Companions
by generic-faingirl
Summary: Companion piece to 'A Heroine's Journey' series. A series of One shots about the characters of Marion's world, and how they came to be where they are. You don't need to read this to understand the main story, but it may help.
1. Bianca

**Bianca.**

Three and a half years before the curse on the castle. 

Lady Bianca Knox strode down the long dark hallway with her head as high as she could get it. The courtiers that lined the corridor gave her small bows and curtsies in deference, but she paid them no heed. On her face, she kept a polite smile, practically plastered on.

She would not tell them anything.

She would not give anything away.

Her mask stayed on her face, fooling the world around her into thinking everything was fine.

That couldn't be much further from the truth.

Her silk dress billowed behind her, catching the air as she rapidly made her way toward the room she had been summoned to. Initially, she had wanted to just come in the comfortable trousers she had just been wearing, but this was all about putting on a show for all of the gossipers and snakes in the court. So reluctantly, she had changed into a flowing blue dress. Her dark raven hair was braided back out of her eyes, and on her hand lay a beautiful ruby ring.

Her mother's ring.

Ever since her mother had passed away, she had kept it. It felt like bringing some part of her along with Bianca everywhere she went. Bianca had developed the habit of twisting it around her little finger whenever she was agitated or scared; and the whole court knew it.

Which is why she was making a conscious effort not to touch it right now. Even when every single fibre of her being told her to.

The doors at the end of the corridor opened, with all the usual pomp and ceremony.

If there was one thing she didn't need right then, it was that.

The doors to his antechambers were flung open, and some young page boys gave her a low bow. Bianca strode through into the room and the doors closed with a large boom behind her.

The ante chamber was dark and deserted. Bianca let her demeanour drop.

She didn't want to be here, she never wanted to be here.

Her fingers itched to touch that ring which lay on her finger. Out of sight of prying eyes, she let herself grab it. Her hand shook and she twisted the ring around her finger back and forth.

A long sigh flew out of her lips.

She had to stay strong. There was no other way to get through this.

Reaching forwards, she pushed the door to the bed chamber open. Light flooded into the darkened room, displaying the flurry of activity that was happening in the main room.

Maids and footmen ran back and forth, moving cloths and buckets out of the way of the bed and replacing them quickly.

Bianca took a step forward, and the servants moved out of her way, like they always did. She walked confidently up to the large four poster bed that lay in the centre of the room.

Tangled in the sheet, lay a man. A man she knew very well. A man she loved with all her heart.

He retched over the side of the bed, clutching at his stomach, as he emptied the contents of his guts into the waiting bucket.

Moaning he turned back over, and Bianca was able to see the sweat falling over his brow, running down his neck. Below his nose, a trickle of dark red ruby blood ran down his face, dropping onto the bed sheets. The blood pooled and stained and spread.

Bianca tried to move her eyes away from it, watching it slowly spread across the fabric in a vein like fashion. The dark red spot grew ever larger and larger, and Bianca felt like she was being pulled closer and closer towards it.

The man retched again, and she snapped out of her daze. Her eyes lifted from the bed to the door on the far side of the room, the one that was firmly closed.

She wasn't even there.

'Move that out of the way, NOW!' a loud voice shouted from across the room. Bianca's head snapped towards the source of the sound.

Cold grey eyes met hers, sending a shiver of hate down her spine.

So, she was here.

She had deigned her dying husband to be important enough to see.

How she made Bianca sick.

Tearing her gaze away from the horrid woman, Bianca made her way to the bedside, and knelt next to her father.

Taking his calloused sweaty hand in her own, she attempted to bring some comfort to him. He didn't seem to take any notice, moaning and writhing in pain.

A young maid tapped her gently on the shoulder, and offered her a cold damp cloth. Taking it her hand, too distracted to thank the girl, she placed on her father's brow. He shook his head slightly, probably from the fever, and gibberish words fell from his lips.

'I'm here father, I'm here.' Bianca whispered. He paid her no attention and continued to moan and twist in the sheets. More blood fell from his nose, staining the sheets. Dabbing at his forehead slightly, she tried to wipe away the sweat and sooth him a little.

It didn't work.

He convulsed and leaned forward, retching again. She moved his head so he was in line with the bucket, but nothing came out. Only more blood dripped from his nose, splattering onto the carpet. He moaned loudly, as bile dribbled out of his mouth.

'Oh, now he's got it all over the carpet.' His wife spat out. 'You incompetent idiots. Someone do something to help him, or at least clean the mess up.'

Bianca bit the inside of her cheek. Hate wasn't a good enough word to describe her feeling towards that woman.

Her father retched again, more bile running down his chin, and dripping it onto Bianca's silk dress. She didn't care one bit. She only wanted her father to be alright. Back to being healthy, and not throwing his guts up into a bucket.

'Bianca, get away from him. You're not helping him. Let the physician do what he has to do.'

Bianca fought down the urge to snarl at the bitch. She was not going to leave her father's side, not for anything. That evil, horrid woman was not going to stop her from caring for her father, as he lay dying.

No one had said the words yet. No one had dared speak 'dying'. But they all knew it. The word hung over the room likes clouds on a rainy day.

There was nothing to be done for him, other than to try and make him as comfortable as possible for his passing. The illness had been so sudden, only a few days before he had been hosting a court banquet in honour of his wife's birthday. Now, he was in a sorry state.

No one outside of the room knew the horrors that lay within. Bianca had tried her hardest not to let on. The court would panic if they knew what was happening, if they knew their duke was on his death bed.

Bianca had even had to keep it from her sister. She was too young, still only a child. Her sister had a kind soul. If she knew, she would have come running down the hallway and flung herself to his bedside, trying to comfort him.

Bianca couldn't allow that. If it was a fever, a disease, she couldn't risk her sister catching it as well. Scarlett was all the family she would have left after this claimed her father. Her stepmother definitely did not count as family; enemy was the word she would use. Losing one member of her family was where Bianca drew the line. She desperately didn't want her father to go, but she knew at this point there was no denying the inevitability of it.

Her father wretched again, this time vomit actually leaving his lips. His wife flinched in the corner of the room, as if it could reach her there. But Bianca simply held his hand as uncontrollably convulsed with the sheer force of the illness.

His hand started shaking, and he opened his eyes. Tears pooled there, clouding his hazel eyes, Bianca's eyes. She tried to smile, to reassure him that everything was going to be fine. But when she looked into her father's face, she could tell that he already knew.

He knew he wouldn't survive the night.

They all did.

Blinking away her own tears, she squeezed his hand gently.

'I love you father. And I'll take care of Scarlett, and the people.' She whispered. Her stepmother remained on the far side of the room and she desperately didn't want her to hear.

Her father looked like he was going to nod, but convulsed again, clutching at his stomach with his other hand. Bianca just stayed by his side, patiently.

The hours wore on, and the large clock in the room began to strike eleven. The Duke fell into a slumber like state, not quite asleep, but not conscious either. He gripped Bianca's hand tightly, unwilling to let go, even when he couldn't see her. Bianca's knees ached from kneeling for so long, but she didn't care. These were her father's last moments on this earth.

Her stepmother had long since left the room, claiming she didn't want to catch the disease he had. But Bianca stayed. She would stay all night if she had to.

The Duke's chest rose and fell slowly, lessening a little every time he took a breath. The maids had tried to get her to rest for a little bit, offering to take over her place at his bedside. She had refused them all.

Eventually, he settled into sleep, no longer tossing and turning. She knew it wouldn't be long. The room fell respectfully silent, most of the servants leaving them alone for a few moments of privacy. Just the useless physician and one footman remained, in case they were needed.

Leaning towards her father, Bianca placed a small kiss on his brow.

'I love you, I love you.' She said. 'I hope you see mother again. Tell her that I love her too, and tell her about how big Scarlett's getting. Scar loves you too, so very much.'

He didn't respond, and she had no clue as to if he had heard her. But it didn't matter, she just needed to say it.

'And I don't hate you for marrying that woman, it wasn't your fault, you weren't to know. I never told you, but I don't blame you. I love you father.'

His chest rose so little; she only knew he was still alive by the slow heart beat that thumped under her hand that she had placed on his chest.

Giving her father one last kiss, Bianca sat down on the floor next to the bed, not taking her hand out of her father's. She didn't care that she was sat in all the bile and blood that he had spewed everywhere. Rubbing the back of his hand gently, she watched as his chest stopped moving all together.

Bianca's world stopped moving.

Tears formed in her eyes without her even noticing it. They slipped from her eyes, down her cheek, and splattered on the floor, mixing in her father's blood.

The physician walked slowly around to the far side of the bed, and checked the Duke's other wrist.

No pulse.

Gently, he placed his wrist back down onto the bed and then he nodded to the footman stood in the corner, who left to inform the Duchess of the sad news.

Bianca sat frozen.

He was gone.

Her Father had just left the world.

Left her and her sister orphans.

The door burst open, and her stepmother entered with all the ceremony and bowing she was accustomed to. Striding up to the bed, careful of where she placed her precious silk slippers, she looked over her husband's corpse.

'Goodbye Thomas.' She said with no emotion, before she turned on Bianca.

Lowering her hand to the young woman, it was the first act of kindness Bianca had seen from her since she married her father. Bianca removed her hand from her fathers, placing it down in the sheets carefully. Then, she took her stepmother's hand, the two women sharing one brief moment of eye contact, before she was hoisted up off the ground.

They stood face to face, the orphan and the widow.

The old Duchess and the new one.

Bianca tried to pull her hand out of her stepmother's grasp, but she held on, just for a second. With a sharp jerk, Bianca felt her hand pull free. Then without saying another word, she turned on her heels, and left the room.

It stank of death and hatred.

Walking through the doors, Bianca failed to notice the small wicked smile that spread over her stepmother's face. She didn't see as her stepmother glanced down into her hand, to see a beautiful ruby ring, and hide it quickly. The doors closed behind Bianca, who was none the wiser as to what her stepmother had just taken.

* * *

Bianca made it back to her bed chamber without encountering any courtiers, a small miracle.

As soon as the door shut firmly behind her, she collapsed against the wood, sobs wracking her chest. She cried and she screamed and she sobbed, wishing her father was not dead.

The man she loved more than any other in the world was gone.

Dead.

He was never coming back.

She was his heir; she was the new Duchess of the region.

She didn't want to be.

All she wanted was her father back. She wanted him to sit her on his knee like he used to do when she was young. He had taught her to read and write, reading bedtime stories to her and then making her repeat the words. The story of Robin Hood was always one of her favourites. He had taught her about ruling the county, the taxes that needed to be collected and documented, how to run the household, how to solve petty debates amongst lowborns. Her father had always been fair when it came to ruling. He'd been kind to the lowborns who came to him seeking help, and he didn't turn them away when they were desperate.

That was, until she came along. That bitch.

Bianca picked herself off the floor of her bedchamber, and made her way to the bed. She was exhausted and grieving. Not even bothering to change out of the ruined silk dress, she collapsed onto the bed, and cried into her pillow. She soon succumbed to the tiredness she was feeling, and let sleep drift over her.

A sharp shake to her shoulder woke her.

'M'lady! M'lady, wake up!'

Someone was whispering in her ear urgently.

Bianca tried to swat them away, but they only tightened their grip on her arm.

'Lady Bianca, you need to wake up!'

Bianca reluctantly opened her eyes, still red and raw from crying. Outside, the moon and stars poured light onto the world. It was still night.

She'd only been asleep for a few hours at the most.

'M'lady, you need to go, now!'

Bianca turned to see Beth, her ladies maid shaking her, with fear in her wide eyes.

'Huh?' Bianca muttered.

'They're on their way now, you need to leave!' Beth whispered, pointing to the panel in the wood, the servants hidden entrance to her room.

'What?' Bianca ask sleepily.

'M'lady, I'm sorry. Your father, he wasn't sick. He was poisoned.' She said.

Bianca sprang up when she heard the words.

Poisoned?

He was murdered.

Someone had killed him.

'They found the poison in a broom cupboard, along with your mother's ring. They think you did it.'

Bianca's mouth fell open.

'I would never…' She began, rage rising in her voice.

'I know, but they're on their way here, to arrest you. Now!' Beth told her, her voice becoming more and more panicked.

Bianca shot out of the bed. Her hand instinctively went to her little finger of her left hand, only to find it empty.

Her mother's ring. It was gone.

She must have dropped it.

Or someone stole it.

Bianca's mind raced back through the last few hours. She had been wearing it when she entered the sickroom. She had been wearing it when he had died, but after that….

A bolt of understanding coursed through her.

Her stepmother. She had taken it.

She had stolen the ring when she had helped Bianca off the floor.

She had framed her.

That bitch had killed her husband, and Bianca's father.

Utter rage ran through Bianca. That evil, wicked, scheming whore! She was going to kill her the next time she saw her. She was going to make her feel every last bit of pain her father had felt as she murdered him.

'M'lady, you have to hurry. We need to get you out of the palace, now!'

Bianca snapped out of her hate consumed daze. Beth already had a bag in her hand, and a brown cloak. Bianca grabbed it from her, and made for the servant's passage. Beth followed, and closed the door behind her with a click. Only a few moments after they had disappeared through the door, footsteps sounded on the other side. The guards had entered Bianca's room.

But Bianca and Beth sprinted down the dark corridor, trying to get as much distance between themselves and that room. They had almost reached the end when Bianca stopped.

'Which way is it to Scarlett's room?' She asked.

Beth shook her head.

'We don't have time, you have to go, now.'

'Which way to Scarlett's room?' Bianca repeated, gritting her teeth as she did.

Beth looked conflicted for a moment, before pointing down a corridor to the right. 'Three doors that way.' She said.

Bianca didn't waste a second, before sprinting off in the direction Beth had pointed.

'Wait for me by the kitchen door. I'll be there in a few minutes. If I'm not, assume they got me.' Bianca whispered down the corridor. She didn't have time to turn around to see Beth nod and walk in the opposite direction.

Bianca knew this was a bad idea, and that it could cost her everything. But she was damned if she didn't say goodbye to the only family she had left.

She carefully counted three doors, before pushing open the filthy piece of wood that served as the servant's door.

The room was dark. No candles, no fire.

Bianca tiptoes carefully around the room, to the bed that lay in the centre.

A young girl with flaming red hair was curled up in the sheets, her blue blanket wrapped tightly around her.

Bianca's heart ached. She had to leave her. All because of that evil bitch, Bianca had to leave her only sister.

Placing a gentle hand on the young girl's shoulders, Bianca shook her awake.

'Scar, Scar, wake up.'

Scarlett's eyes fluttered open, and she rolled over to see her sister.

'Bianca? What's wrong?' She murmured.

'Scar, I have to go.'

'Go where?'

Scarlett pushed herself up onto her elbows and stared curiously at her sister.

'Father's dead, and Nerissa framed me for killing him.' Bianca told her.

Scarlett's eyes instantly filled with tears.

'What? Father? How?' She asked, her voice breaking.

'He was poisoned, by her. But she's coming to arrest me, so I have to go.'

'No..' was all Scarlett could say.

'I don't want to leave you, but if she catches me, she will kill me, do you understand?'

Scarlett nodded.

'But I don't want you to go.' She whispered.

Bianca swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat.

'I don't want to either. But I want you to know that whatever she says about me, I didn't do it.' Bianca told her. 'And I told father that you loved him, very much.'

Tears fell down her sister's face. Bianca's heart ached for the fourteen-year old.

'And I love you. More than anything. Please remember that.' Bianca said, feeling the tears run down her own face.

'I love you too.' Scarlett cried, a sob rising in her chest. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her sister. Bianca held onto her as tightly as she could.

'I love you. Be strong. I'll be back one day. We'll reclaim father's lands from her, and punish her for everything she's done.' Bianca whispered in Scarlett's ear.

Scarlett only nodded. Her tears dripped onto Bianca's shoulder.

Light began to shine under the door, and footsteps got ever closer and closer.

Bianca sprang out of her sister's arms, and ran back through the servant's door she had emerged from. Without looking back, she closed the door behind her and ran for her life.

Wiping away the tears that continued to fall, Bianca ran down the dark corridors, until she reached the kitchen.

It was deserted. All the servants had been in bed for hours. There was no fire, no candles, no lamps. Bianca made her way around the tables and chairs that were positioned by the fire, and headed for the door.

Beth was stood there, waiting.

'In there. You need to change.' She said, handing her the bag. Inside, Bianca saw that there was a fresh change of clothes, comfortable trousers, a simple white shirt, a tunic and some under things.

Bianca took the bag and walked into the room Beth had pointed to. She quickly stripped off her cloak and dress, and pulled on the shirt, trousers, and tunic, before wrapping the cloak back around her shoulders. She stepped out, and handed the ruined dress to Beth.

'You might want to burn that.' Bianca said.

'Don't worry, I will.' Beth told her.

Voices echoed around the kitchen from the rooms above. The guards knew she was trying to escape by now.

Beth pushed Bianca towards the door.

'I'll try and distract them for as long as possible. Run, and don't look back.' Beth whispered.

'Thank you. I owe you my life.' Bianca told her.

Beth nodded. 'It's been an honour, my lady. I wish you the best of luck.'

Bianca gave her a small smile through the tears.

'I'm glad to have known you Beth.' Bianca said.

Suddenly, the door at the top of the stairs clattered open, spilling light onto the kitchen below. Shadows of men in uniform fell down the stairs, and their footsteps echoed off the wood.

Immediately, Bianca took off, running through the open kitchen door and out into the dark night.

She sprinted down the servant's path through the gardens, making for the tree line. The edge of the gardens ended where the forest began, and Bianca ran as quickly as her body would let her, straight for the woods.

The cold wind whipped at her hair and skin, but she paid it no heed. She had to keep running. Get to the trees.

Once she passed the line, she darted between trees, staying off any paths, determined to get as much distance between herself and the palace. Tears clouded her eyes as she ran further and further away from her home, her sister. From her father's body.

Hours passed, and she didn't stop running.

She had to get away.

As far away as possible.

Keep running, get somewhere safe.

Bianca didn't stop running until the break of dawn, when the sky began to slowly lighten and the sun peaked over the edge of the horizon. The birds awoke and filled the air with their lovely song, and Bianca wanted to kill them for it. She slowed to a walk, unable to keep up her pace any longer. The sun climbed higher and higher into the sky, until it could be seen through the leaves of the trees.

Exhausted, grieving, upset and pissed off, Bianca slumped onto the ground, leaning against an old large tree.

She wept.

* * *

AN: Hi Everyone.

Seeing as though it is my birthday today, I'm giving you all a little treat.

After being inspired by a review I got, I decided to write these stories to hopefully give you a little more backstory to some of the characters from Marion's world. I've had these written in bullet point form for a long time, but never actually wrote the stories.

I realise that this story in particular might not make sense now, but if you bear with me, things should begin to make themselves clearer by the time you read part 3 of Marion's story. There are character one shots in here that explain the back story to people you haven't met yet, so please just trust me that it will make sense, eventually .

All reviews and comments are gratefully recieved, so please leave one; if you feel so inclined. ( just to remind you that it is my birthday, and reviews would make amazing presents...)

Part 3 will be up soon, I promise. I'm over halfway done, so it won't be long now.

Thank you all for reading this series, and I hope you all continue to enjoy it as much as I have done.

generic-fangirl.


	2. Ellen

**Ellen**

Twenty-two years before the curse. 

The sun shone brightly through the clear sky as Ellen ran through the meadow. Her dress billowed in the wind and her hair whipped into her face, but she didn't care.

The bag in her hand, filled with her belongings, began to feel heavy. Her belongings from her previous life, the one that had ended mere moments before.

The moment her father had turned on her.

Ellen knew in that instant that this was the only way. It was drastic, but necessary.

Her father would never understand. She never cared for society, or titles or money, or any of that. She wanted love, and passion, and adventure. And she was not going to let her father get in the way of that.

She doubted he would even care. The note she had left behind explained how she never wanted to see him again if he wasn't going to accept her decision. No doubt he would simply forget all about her and push one of her sisters at the higher nobility. He just wanted a match, he didn't care which of his children it was.

But Ellen wasn't going to stand for that.

The meadow ended, and the forest began, as Ellen continued to run, trying to get as much distance between her and the manor house she had once called home. It wasn't her home any longer, the person she was running to meet was her home.

The sunlight filtered through the leaves of the forest. She continued running, swapping her bag from one hand to the other. The forest path was covered in fallen red and brown leaves.

She smiled. Red and brown. That's what they were going to be, forever. Her hair was a dark brown colour, and as the person that she so desperately wanted to see came into sight, the redness of his hair shone in the sunlight.

He was there, stood waiting for her. His face lit up in a lovely smile when he saw her running towards him. His kind brown eyes showing all the love and devotion that she had dreamt about seeing since she was a little girl.

She didn't stop running. In fact, she ran right into his arms. He grunted as she hit his chest, but wrapped his arms around her anyway.

'You came.' He whispered.

'Did you doubt I would?' Ellen asked him.

'Well, no, but…' He trailed off.

She understood. Going up against her father was no easy thing, and it made complete sense for him to doubt that she would go through with it.

'I'm here. And I'm never going back there again..' She told him confidently.

She felt his lips, pressing against the side of her forehead.

He pulled back, and set her down. His brown eyes shone as he raised his eyebrow.

'So, shall we to church, my soon to be wife?' He asked.

'Why certainly.' Ellen replied, taking his hand.

Sam extended his other hand to offer to carry her bag for her. She smiled and handed it to him.

'Woah, what have you got in here!' Sam asked, feeling the weight of the bag.

'I said I was bringing some things. It's just a few clothes and tokens.' Ellen said innocently. Her lovely blue green eyes shone with amusement as he lifted the bag onto his shoulder, grunting slightly as he did.

He gave her a small smile, and together they walked through the forest, to the church.

* * *

The wedding ceremony was short. Ellen wore one of the dresses she had brought from the manor, and braided flowers into her hair. Sam wore the smartest change of clothes he owned, a simple shirt and tunic, but at least it wasn't covered in wood chippings and sawdust. His vibrant red hair had been combed back as he stood nervously before the alter.

Of course, he had absolutely no reason to worry. If he had learned one thing about Ellen in the time they had spent together, it was that once she set her mind on something, she saw it through, to the bitter end. He expected this marriage to be no different. It was in fact something he looked forward to.

The few assembled people of the congregation fell silent as the doors opened to reveal Ellen, looking as beautiful as ever in a lilac gown. She practically strode down the aisle, only slowing down when she stood a yard away from Sam. She beamed at him, love pouring from those unusual blue-green jewel like eyes. He smiled back.

He couldn't quite believe this was happening. After all those secret visits to the carpenter's shop, those stolen moments in the dark room he used as a store cupboard, she was finally here, declaring herself to be his wife.

They both answered the questions posed to them by the priest with absolute certainty. They both repeated their vows without stumbling over a single word, and when the time came to kiss the bride, Sam could not be more overjoyed. The kiss was soft, but full of promise. The few people who were there burst into applause, and it wasn't long before the two of them were walking back down the aisle arm in arm. Night had fallen outside the church, so they walked back to his carpenter's shop, with only the light of the moon to guide them.

Opening the door for them, Sam let Ellen walk in first. She immediately began to light the candles around the room, shedding some much needed light into the house. Sam stood, leaning on the door frame, watching her.

'Was it terrible?' He asked quietly.

'Was what?' She responded.

'The confrontation with your father.'

She stopped lighting the candles and bit her lip.

'It wasn't pleasant, but I'm glad I did it. My entire life, he's been dictating what I do and who I see. It felt nice to finally be free of that. I won't miss him, or my sisters.'

She looked up and met his gaze.

'Besides, I've got all the family I'll ever need right here.' She told him.

Sam's heart soared.

He stepped forward, letting the door close behind him. He wrapped his arms around Ellen's waist, looking down into her amazing eyes.

'Are you sure you aren't regretting your marriage to a lowborn no one? You could have been a great lady of the land.'

She scowled at that.

'No, I'm counting my lucky stars that I'm your wife.'

His wife, his wife!

His arms tightened around her waist, pulling her in closer to him. He was the one who was lucky, that this beautiful highborn woman had given up everything to run away and marry him. He dropped his head to capture her mouth in a kiss. She instantly snaked her arms around his head, plunging her fingers into his red hair. He groaned and began to walk them both to his bedroom, not breaking the kiss for one second. Once they were both through the door, he slammed it shut behind him with all the force he could muster.

They were not to be disturbed for a good long while.

* * *

The weeks passed. Ellen felt like she was in a dream. Sam was the most perfect husband she could have possible wished for. He woke early every morning, and either brought her breakfast in bed, or woke her in a much more pleasant way. She couldn't remember the last time she was that happy, if ever.

She certainly hadn't been happy at the manor. Every moment felt like some sort of excruciating constant test, for her father to decide exactly how best she could serve his purpose of connecting his family with the great nobility of the land. Her two sisters were no better than him, always chasing after one young lord or another.

But Ellen had never cared for any of that, something that made her a constant thorn in the side of her father. However, now she was Mrs Ellen Hale, and far out of her father's scheming grasp.

Sam had saved her. All those meeting in his workshop that she had been sent to in order to pick up some order of her father's, had actually amounted to something. Sam, the handsome red haired artistic carpenter that had won her heart utterly and completely. She enjoyed watching him work, bent over a piece of wood, filling it into shape, watching his muscles shift under his thin shirt. She had seen him in less, but that didn't make these scenes less appealing.

She had tried her hardest to find a place in the society of Milton. But as most of the women who lived there had lived there all of their lives, it made trying to find a group to fit into quite difficult. She wasn't completely friendless though, there were a few ladies who were perfectly polite and civil to her, but had work or tasks to complete, something Ellen had not been used to. Ellen was sure that given enough time, she would become close friends with some of those women.

Before either her or Sam noticed, three months of marriage had passed. Summer was now upon them, and each day was just as happy as the previous one. Ellen had learned how to cook from her new husband, and she in turn had taught him how to make flower crowns in the days were they did nothing but lie in the meadows, lazily sat with Sam's head in Ellen's lap.

Ellen didn't miss the family she had run away from one bit. August was a full society month, and she knew her father and sisters would be preparing to attend this party, or that ball. Ellen was perfectly content with her new life, even preferring the low born un-corseted dresses over the stupidly intricate and expensive silk ones of the nobility.

One sunny afternoon, Ellen and Sam were walking through the forest to get to the flower meadow, to spend a few hours there. Ellen had packed a basket of food for them to eat, which she had resting in the crook of her arm.

'Sam?' She asked, a small smile on her face, 'Are you happy with our life right now?'

Sam stopped walking, and instantly turned to face his wife. His expression was one of complete and utter concern.

'Yes, of course I am. Happier than I've ever been. Why do you ask? Are you not happy?'

He sounded so scared, so panicked.

'No, I am perfectly happy,' Ellen reassured him. 'I only ask, as to whether you would like a change in our lives. A small one.'

Sam looked very confused.

Shaking his head, he told his wife. 'I do not wish for any change. None at all, I'm perfectly content with the way things are.'

Ellen's gaze dropped to the ground, and she forced down the smile that was threatening to give her away.

'Oh, well that's too bad.'

Sam, reached for her chin, and tilted her face up to see him.

'Why. Do you want to change things?'

'I don't think I get a choice in the matter anymore.' She told him. It was the truth, but it seemed to make his head spin with confusion.

'What? You always get a choice; in everything we do. Have I done something terrible? Please tell me.' Sam said.

'No, it's nothing to do with you.' Ellen said. Her cheeks were beginning to hurt with the strain of containing her smile. 'Only, there's a change upon us, and there's not really much we can do about it.'

Sam only raised his eyebrow in question.

'A rather small change.' Ellen said. She set the basket she had brought down on the ground.

Sam did not understand her statement.

'Ellen, please just tell me what's going on. You're scaring me.'

Ellen sighed, the romantic-ness of the moment was ruined. The only was he was going to understand was if she outright said it.

'There's going to be a little one. In February.' She told him, holding her breath for his reaction.

'A little change to what?' He asked.

'No, A little one. A baby.' She said bluntly.

Sam froze. His eyes were wide with shock, and his mouth agape slightly. Ellen scanned his face for any sign that he was still in his body.

'Did you understand that, or do I need to be clearer?' She asked, tapping her foot impatiently.

Sam's mouth moved up and down slightly, as if he was trying to form word, but failing. Then, he released the breath he had been holding in, in a loud laugh.

'You're with child?' He asked.

Ellen let her shields drop, and the smile she had tried so hard to hide spread across her face. Nodding, she reached forwards and took Sam's hand in her own.

'Yes. You're going to be a father.' She said, squeezing his hand gently.

Sam took his other hand and ran it through his hair.

'We're going to have a baby!' Sam cried, a large grin spreading throughout his own face.

Ellen nodded.

'When did you say, February?'

'Yes. Or at least I think it is, roughly.'

'Well, how do you not know?'

'Hey, it's my first time being with child, I don't know anything yet.' Ellen told him, playfully hitting him in the arm.

He gave her a happy, but apologetic look, forcing her to laugh. Then he reached forwards and wrapped his arms around her back, pulling her into his embrace.

'We're going to have a baby.' He repeated, holding her close. She simply hummed in agreement.

'I love you, so very much. And this baby too.' Sam whispered in her ear.

'I love you too.' She told him, meaning it with every piece of her heart.

* * *

Winter came to Milton, and snow fell covering the ground in dazzling white. Ellen and Sam were forced to stay inside as much as possible. Ellen had to stay inside regardless as there was now a rather large bump sticking out of her middle, where their unborn child lay. Ellen had already decided it was a boy, due to the amount of kicking it decided to do when she had just fallen asleep. Sam told her if it was more similar to either of them, it was Ellen, so therefore it was a girl. Ellen only told him he was stupid, and she was right.

Sam was actually very considerate towards her. He would offer to do chores, as staying on her feet for long stretches of time had become difficult. When they would curl up by the fire to stay warm, he would rub her feet soothingly, easing some of the tension. Ellen sometimes woke to find Sam's arm draped over her side, resting on the bump; as if he could protect it, even when asleep.

One night, the snow was falling fast outside, and Ellen waited for her husband to return. He had gone into the village to get some more food, so Ellen had prepared the dinner. It was sat waiting on the table, getting colder by the second.

Ellen was just about to worry, when the door groaned open, and Sam strode through the door, covered in snow. He placed the bag containing food down and began to peel off the cold wet layers. When he was just down to his under things and shirt, he came towards Ellen and tried to pull her into his embrace. She mockingly fought him off, as he was freezing cold. But eventually he won, and she teased him for another hour about how he was so cold.

They ate dinner quickly and then sat by the fire, to try and heat Sam up. Ellen sat on a cushion between Sam's legs, her back resting on his front. Sam's arms wrapped around her large middle and rested right on top of where the baby was, sleeping for once.

'Do we think of names?' Sam asked.

'We still have another two months to go.' Ellen told him.

'But there's nothing wrong with being prepared.' Sam countered.

She just sighed and looked down to her belly.

'So, boy's names first?' She said.

'I still think it's a girl.'

'Well, you're wrong. Girls are far too polite to wake me at three in the morning with kicking on my bladder.'

Sam chuckled.

'Fine, boy's names.' He told her, giving her a quick kiss on the side of her forehead.

'John?' Sam asked. Ellen shook her head.

'Edward?' Ellen countered.

'He's not an Edward.' Sam said quietly. 'What about a family name?'

Ellen scowled.

'I am not naming him after my father. Also, Nathaniel is a horrid name for a baby.'

Sam took one of his hands off her bump and ran in up and down her arm.

'I was thinking more my family name.' He said quietly.

Ellen turned her head to look at him.

'Sorry, I didn't think.' She told him.

'No, it's fine. But you are right, Nathaniel is a horrid name.' He said, with a small smile.

'So, what name did you have in mind? Your father's name? What was it?' She asked.

Sam gave a small smile and returned his hand to the bump.

'Jack.' He said quietly.

Ellen looked down. It felt so right, so perfect.

'Jack.' She repeated, testing the word on her lips. The baby clearly heard his name being spoken, and decided at that moment to begin kicking.

'I think he likes it' Ellen said with a small smile.

'Yes, I think he does.' Sam said, laughter lining his voice.

'Ah ha, so you admit it's a boy.' Ellen cried.

'No, but if it is a boy, then his name is Jack.' Sam conceded. 'But we need a girl's name, just in case, nature forbid it; I am right.'

Ellen rolled her eyes, but placed her hands on top of Sam's

They were warm. Abnormally warm. She sat up a little, turning towards him and touched his forehead with the back of her hand. He felt hot. Not just warm from the glow of the fire, strangely hot.

'Are you feeling alright?' Ellen asked, concern evident in her voice.

'Yes, I'm fine. Just a little tired. Come on, a girl's name, then we'll turn in for the night'

She lowered her hand, her fears not entirely put to rest, but lay back down on him regardless.

'What was your mother's name?' She asked. 'If we're naming a boy after your father, it only seems fitting that a girl is named after your mother.'

'Sophie.' Sam whispered. 'Her name was Sophie.'

The baby didn't move. Ellen liked the name well enough, but she was certain the baby was a boy, and therefore didn't jump for joy when it heard a girl's name for it. Jack, that was his name.

'Alright, decision made.' She said, pushing herself off Sam's chest, and trying to stand. He helped her up, and together they walked into their bedroom.

* * *

Ellen's worst fears were confirmed the next day.

Sam had woken up with a fever, no doubt brought in from the snow storm he'd been out in. Ellen had woken up to find him pale and sweating, with a very high temperature. She got dressed as quickly as she could and went to find the local physician.

But, being largely pregnant and walking on snow turned out to be surprisingly difficult. And to make matters worse, by the time she got to his house, his wife informed her that he had been called away to deal with another sick patient. Ellen begged her to go and find him, which she did after quite a lot of persuasion.

Ellen and the physician returned to her house about two hours after she had left. Sam was even worse now, mumbling in his fever, his red hair sticking to his forehead with sweat.

The physician told Ellen to leave the room, which she refused to do. Only when the physician told her it could damage their child, did she concede and sit in the main room.

She was so worried. She had never seen Sam sick before, never. Part of her felt it was her fault, for making him go out to get food in the middle of the snow storm. But he would have gone anyway, he was just like that.

An hour passed, and still the physician hadn't left the room. Ellen plucked up her courage and opened the door to find the physician standing over Sam, trying to cool his head with a damp cloth.

Sam however looked worse. All the colour had drained from his face, and he didn't look conscious.

'I tried to bleed him, to remove the fever. But it hasn't worked. I'm sorry madam, but I think you should prepare for the worst.' He told her softly.

Ellen's eyes filled with tears. Her husband couldn't be that sick. He just couldn't be. She strode past the physician and knelt at her husband's bedside. She took his hand in hers, even though it was hot and sweaty, and pressed a kiss to the back of it.

'Get better. I need you to get better.' She sobbed. 'Your son or daughter needs you to get better. Fight this Sam. For me, for us.'

He only moaned in pain. Ellen knew he hadn't heard her.

'I love you, Sam Hale. Don't you dare give up on us. You need to see this baby born. You were going to play with it, remember. You were going to teach them how to carve wood, regardless of the gender. And then we were going to give it lots of little brothers and sisters, remember that!'

Ellen tried to hold back the tears, but she wasn't able. The baby kicked and kicked, as if he too knew what was going on.

'Stay with me. Please my love. Stay.'

Sam Hale passed away later that night. Ellen sat by his bedside the entire time and held his hand when he departed the world.

Ellen screamed and sobbed and cursed fate for how cruel it all was.

Sam, her handsome young carpenter who she had abandoned everything for, was dead.

And she was left a pregnant widow.

It took weeks to get her to leave the house. At night, she'd hold her unborn child close and cry herself to sleep, clutching Sam's pillow in her other hand.

The baby was what helped her through her grief. It was a constant reminder that there was some part of Sam that was going to live on. She spoke to it regularly, telling it how loved it was, by both its parents. And how it's father wasn't here anymore, but loved it very much from heaven.

February came, and Ellen's pains began in the middle of the night. She jolted awake and quickly wrapped herself in a cloak, before setting off to the physician's house. There wasn't anyone else to go for her, so she had to do it herself. She made it through the pain, and almost broke his door down with the force of her knocking. He came to the door, still in his night clothes. He and his wife immediately escorted her back to her house, and laid her down on the bed. His wife acted as midwife over the next few hours as Ellen gave birth to her and Sam's child.

'Congratulations, it's a boy.' The physician's wife said, wrapping the new born in clean blanket. The baby began to scream from hunger and cold, and although Ellen was exhausted, she asked for the baby to be placed in her arms.

The physician's wife handed her the small bundle, and Ellen gazed at her son's face. Pulling back the blanket a bit, she saw a few wispy strands of hair.

Red hair.

Her heart leapt as she saw her late husband in her son's face.

The baby crinkled its nose and opened its eyes.

A beautiful blue-green colour. Just like hers.

He was beautiful. A perfect mix of both of his parents. Ellen felt tears of joy running down her cheeks.

'Hello Jack.' She whispered softly.


	3. Lord Weston

**Lord Weston**

 **Three years before the curse.**

The Palace was just as grand as he had been told it would be. Great sweeping pillars stood proudly on the front facing side, displaying the large windows. The cold grey stone, carved intricately, showed all the wealth and power that the rank of the owner possessed.

Lord Adam Weston stood with his mouth agape. He owned a castle, but it was nothing like the extravagance he saw before him.

The nineteen-year old lord had finally arrived at her court, after the day long journey through her extensive lands. It was the first time he'd been invited to attend the court. After just finishing his education at Ashburne school, Adam was anxious to get into society. It was the first time in his life he was free to make his own choices. His Father has decreed he attend Ashburne, but his Father has died over two years before. Adam was already so far through his education, it seemed pointless to drop out. So, Adam stayed till the bitter end.

He'd never really got along particularly well with the other young men at school. Christopher had been pleasant enough, but his friend James, he was insufferable. Even though he was only heir to a Knighthood, he acted like he was a royal prince. It's annoyed Adam to no end that everyone always seemed to prefer James over himself. He was more highly born than James could ever aspire to be.

But none of that mattered any more. They'd all left school, and were out in the real world. And he had received an invitation to her court. As far as he knew, no one else he had gone to school with had received that honour.

He barked an order at the servants who were waiting on the steps of the palace, to take his bags to his room, and for someone to escort him to the Duchess.

He was obeyed without question. A young footman led him through the front door and upstairs to the audience chambers.

Adam was very curious to meet the new Duchess, very curious indeed. Only a few months before, there had been a large scandal involving the death of the former Duke, who was poisoned by his own daughter. She had been his heir, and the rumour was that she had killed him to try and grab his power. She had run away in the middle of the night, and had never been seen since. Her younger sister was heartbroken by the betrayal; and refused to leave her rooms for several weeks. In the time of crisis, the Duke's widow had taken over ruling. Her youngest step daughter was far too young to rule anyway. This new Duchess was said to be the very image of strength and determination.

Something Adam admired greatly.

The lord followed the servant through grand hallways, works of art and decoration lining every available inch. But Adam kept his head up high, he was going to be at the court for the foreseeable future, he would have time to admire it later; after he had made a good first impression on the court and the Duchess.

They came to a halt before a particularly large set of carved wooden door, and the servant nodded to the guards who were stood on either side of the door handles. They gave the lord a low bow, before reaching for the handles and opening the doors with a loud boom that echoed around the audience chamber.

Inside, were many fine courtiers, all dressed in exquisite clothes and dripping in jewels. They turned to stare at him. Adam didn't so much as blink. He kept the mask of cold indifference on his face not for a second betraying the nervousness that was building up inside of him. He took a small breath, and then marched forward, through the space in the crowd, right up to the Dias, where a carved ebony throne sat, inlaid with golden decoration.

And on the throne…

A devastatingly beautiful young woman.

Adam's eyes went wide with shock. He knew the new duchess was meant to be young and strong, but he had not been prepared for the stone cold beauty that lay before him.

Her skin was pale, and completely unblemished. Not a freckle or scar or a spot in sight. Her grey eyes seemed to hold the attention of everyone in the room, cold in nature. Her long light brown hair had been swept back to reveal the contours of her face, the long arching cheekbones, and the blood red lips. Her hair, almost golden in the light, fell down her back in long straight lines. She was dressed in black, still in mourning for her late husband; a man who had been a quarter of a century her senior.

Adam found himself staring at the Duchess for far longer than he had intended to. When he finally managed to rein in the thoughts that were flying through his head, he gave the Duchess a low bow, out of respect for her position. She didn't react, but stared at him throughout.

He rose, and she opened her blood red lips.

'Lord Weston. I am glad you could join my court. I trust you will find everything here to your satisfaction.'

Her tone was one of complete and utter command. She knew she had the power here, and acted like it. It had a sense of ice about it, cold and penetrating.

Something awoke inside Lord Weston. He pulled the corner of his mouth up into a small smirk, mimicking the one he had seen James make all the time at young ladies. He had never been much of a charmer, but he was willing to take a chance.

'Thank you, your grace. I'm sure I will be…' He paused for a moment, 'quite satisfied here.'

Her eyes narrowed slightly at him, as if she was undecided as to if she was flattered or offended. But her stone cold manner returned a fraction of a second later. She lifted her hand, dismissing him. Lord Weston gave her another low bow, and turned around to be led to his rooms. The arrogant smile that graced his face didn't disappear for the next hour, as he was shown his chambers, and how to navigate the main rooms of the palace.

He sat all alone in his new ante chamber, lounging like a contented cat on the chaise that was placed in the centre of the room. For the first time in his life, he was the one in charge. He had no school assignments, no obligations to his father, no need to try and prove he was better than his school mates. He knew he was better than them. He had been invited to her court, no one else had.

Adam was an ambitious young man. He always had been. It was something his father had ingrained in his mind from when he was a small boy.

 _The only way to succeed in this world is to take what you are owed, and not to apologise for it. And you my son, are owed a great many things by the world. You could reach the stars._

Adam had plans to live up that lesson. He might be a lord, with great wealth and power. But there were still places higher that he could attain.

And by far, the easiest way to attain that, was through marriage.

But now, there was only one possible target for that marriage of alliance.

The Duchess.

Powerful, calculating and beautiful; it was all the qualities Adam had desired in a potential bride. If he pulled this off, he could be elevated to the rank of Duke. He would be the same station as that doe eyed romantic; Christopher. Adam knew he would make a far better Duke than Christopher. Christopher only cared about the people he ruled, he never saw the benefit to himself of being in a position of so much power. The wealth he could obtain; the influence over history, the complete and utter control he would have. Adam saw all these possibilities spread out before him.

If only he could win her hand.

It didn't matter that she was a few years older than him, or that she had been married before. He would push those inconveniences to one side. Adam simply wanted the power she possessed.

And he would stop at nothing to get it.

* * *

Two months passed, and Adam was no closer to his goal.

It frustrated him to no end.

Two months of wasted energy. All those fine clothes he had ordered to try and impress her, all those jewels he had sent to her as gifts, all that money and time simply wasted.

She had never summoned him to her side.

She never seemed to look twice in his direction.

Her demeanor remained as cold as ice as she sat upon her throne, ruling the county.

Adam got more and more annoyed by the hour.

He had attended all the court function she would be at. He had paid servants for information about her movements and actions.

But no one was ever allowed to ascend to the Dias the throne sat on, not without her expressed permission.

And the entire court knew that.

Adam could get no closer to the Duchess than a footman.

There was only so much he could do from afar. He had written her notes asking for a private audience, usually with a made up excuse about his estate. He never planned on actually talking to her about it. He simply needed the chance to get her alone in a room with him. He knew he had charm, and could usually get women to do whatever he wanted them to. Granted that most of the women he had bedded so far were servants and maids, but the principle must be the same, whether they were a peasant or a Duchess. He might not be quite as swoon-worthy as James ( he always had his way with the ladies) but Adam knew a trick or two to persuade them to make it worth his time.

But that infernal Duchess! She wouldn't budge an inch.

Adam was starting to get desperate. He was only planning on being at court for about six months. With the amount of estate work he had to do for Milton and his castle, he needed at least half the year back there. While he didn't really care for the people of Milton, if they prospered, then he prospered in tax money; a very valuable lesson his father had taught him.

His father had many ideas and traditions that he had upheld that helped with making money from Milton. His father had always insisted that the people should see their lord. That way, they felt cared for, even if they weren't. And it was good to tell the people exactly who ruled them. Adam's father had told him that the people needed to know what he looked like. They couldn't bow and scrape to him if they didn't know who they were in the presence of.

Another tradition, which Adam actually liked, was the buying of good and things from the people of Milton. Particularly, the clothes from Milton. Many peasants couldn't afford to get clothes from dress shops, and frequently had to make their own from whatever scraps of cloth they could find. But if the lord frequently bought clothes from the dress shops of Milton, not only did he get wonderful new garments, but also put money in the pockets of the dress shop owner, and the seamstresses, who in turn bought food and other things from Milton, which meant everyone could pay their taxes in time. Adam also sent his servants to buy food from the local market and meat from the local butcher.

If the people didn't make money, then there was no money to give him. It had to keep moving, not just stay locked in his vaults. It wouldn't do him any good just lying there. For the amount of money he spent, he always made a profit in the return of it.

Adam was not a bad master, or a bad lord. He did look after his lands and his people. Granted it was for selfish reasons, but his lands were well governed and his people fairly contented. He simply didn't care for them much.

But he couldn't stay at the Duchess court for much longer than another four months if his lands were going to stay well cared for.

Adam was out, walking around the pristine gardens one afternoon. His mind was whirring and churning; trying desperately to think of ideas as to how exactly he was going to get the Duchess to notice him.

He was going to marry her if it was the last thing he did.

Adam wandered, straying from the path slightly to walk around through the edge of the forest. He'd always quite liked the forest. His own castle was surrounded by woods. You had to walk through the woods in order to get there. Although the forest around the Duchess's palace were different than the ones near Milton, it still gave him a sense of home.

Pacing and wandering, Adam walked deeper into the woods, his mind too occupied to think about where exactly he was going. How on earth was he going to win her hand if he couldn't even get her attention for a matter of seconds? He needed her to see him, and the potential he possessed. If he could be elevated to Duke, he could make a fat profit off all of the lands of the Dukedom. He wasn't blind, he could tell that nearly every other unmarried man at the court also had his eyes set firmly on her. Some were clearly fools as they had set their sights on her young stepdaughter. After all, technically, she was the true heir, after her sister ran away. But she was still far too young to be a ruler, or married. And if the current Duchess was anything like she had been rumoured to be, Adam didn't think she'd let her own stepdaughter outrank her.

Those men were clearly idiots if they didn't see that she had no chance of inheriting her father's title. Hardly anyone had actually seen her anyway. She was still too young to attend most of the court functions, and those she was actually invited to, she generally turned down the invitation, preferring to stay in her rooms.

She was not important. The only person who mattered at this court was the Duchess.

And Adam had to win her.

A cold breeze flew through the trees, forcing Adam to snap out of his thoughts and wrap his cloak tightly around himself.

Looking around, Adam slowly realised he had strayed too far from the path. And he had no clue how to get back to the palace.

Panicking, he looked around, trying to find which direction he had come from. But nothing looked familiar.

He was lost.

Very lost.

'Do you need help?' Came a voice from behind him.

Adam spun around to see an old man sat on the ground, leaning against a tree. His long grey beard was plaited and knotted in a strange fashion, and his clothes were old and dirty. A long grey cloak was wrapped around him, trying to shield him from the cold.

'Which way to the castle?' Adam said, his voice full of steely demand.

The old man only laughed.

'Which way?' Adam demanded.

The man only chuckled to himself, and pushed himself of the floor to stand in front of Adam.

'Why should I tell you?' The man said. His voice was strange. Other-worldly and yet familiar.

'You will tell me at once. I am a lord, I outrank you. And you will tell me which way.' Adam ordered him.

'Do you outrank me?' The old man said, with a small wicked smile.

Adam froze.

The old man simply moved his long hair out of his face, and tucked it securely behind his ears.

His long and pointed ears.

Faerie.

The old man was a faerie.

Adam stepped backwards in fear.

'You were saying…' The faerie joked.

'You're a… a… You're fae.' Adam spluttered.

'Well done, stating the obvious. I thought you were supposed to be intelligent.' The faerie told him.

Adam had to shake his head in disbelief at what he had just heard.

'You know me?' He asked, shocked.

'Not exactly.' The old faerie said.

'That's not an answer.' Adam spat.

'I know it isn't.' The faerie told him.

Adam was stunned at the nerve of the faerie. Never before had he been spoken to like that.

'Tell me how to get to the palace.' Adam said, through gritted teeth.

The faerie only laughed to himself.

'You don't want to know that.' He said quietly.

Adam was taken aback.

'Yes I do.' Adam insisted.

'No, you want to know how to win the Duchess. That's why you're wandering around in the first place. That's what you want to know.'

Adam's mouth fell open.

How on earth had the faerie known?

Adam knew they possessed magic, but not quite like that.

The faerie simply stood there, smiling to himself.

'What if I told you, I could help?' The old faerie told him.

Adam's head shot up.

Was this faerie really offering to help?

Could this be the answer he had been searching for?

A smirk formed on Adam's face without him realising it.

'How?' He asked.

'Well, telling you would spoil the fun.' The faerie teased.

'Tell me how.' Adam demanded.

The faerie stayed stubbornly silent.

'How?' Adam asked again. He didn't appreciate being teased in this manner.

'Now, why would I tell you that unless there was something in it for me…' The faerie said.

Adam took a deep breath.

Of course.

Faeries were notorious for making deals. They never did anything without an ulterior motive. They did everything to help their bigger plan.

'What do you want?' Adam asked. 'I have gold and land. Say it and it's yours.'

The faerie chuckled.

'I don't need money or land.'

'Then what do you want?' Adam spat.

'You.' The faerie said very matter of factly.

Adam's heart stopped.

What did that mean?

Was he asking for….

'Calm down, I don't mean like that.' The faerie told him. 'I'll offer you a deal. There is a way to find out what you want to know, and I'll help you get there. In return, I want one week from you. Just one.'

'One week of what?'

'One week of service from you. I'd think you'd benefit from learning how to peel potatoes.'

Adam recoiled. He wasn't about to spend a week being treated like a servant. He was far above that. He would not sink to levels of peasantry.

'No.' Adam said.

'Well then, you'll just have to think of some other way to find out what you need to know.' Said the faerie as he turned away from Adam, and began to walk away.

'Wait!' Adam shouted. Although he didn't like the terms the faerie had told him, he was desperate. He needed to know how to win over the Duchess if he was ever going to succeed. And so far, everything he had tried was not working. He needed help, as much as he hated to admit it.

The faerie turned back around slowly, a smirk on his face.

'One week. You tell me how to get a hold of what I need to know, and I will serve you for one week. Then we part ways and never see each other again.' Adam told him.

The faerie's smirk only grew larger.

'Then we have a deal, Lord Adam Weston.'

Adam's eyes widened at the sound of his name. He certainly hadn't told the faerie what he was called, but at this point knew better than to ask. Faeries knew things far beyond what they should know, and how they got their hands on that information was something known only to them. Humans knew better than to ask.

The faerie held out his hand for Adam to shake. Slowly and begrudgingly, Adam reached forward for it, but stopped just before their hands met.

'You help me; immediately.' Adam amended.

The faerie only raised his eyebrow slightly, as if he was amused that the lord dare make a demand on him. But he nodded slightly, and grasped Adam's hand and shook it.

Adam gripped the faerie's hand tightly.

'So, how do I win over the Duchess?' He asked.

The faerie responded with a wicked smile.

And Adam couldn't help but think that he may have just made one of the biggest mistakes of his life.

* * *

To his credit, the faerie delivered on his promise.

Or at least, that was what Adam thought as he was lead down a dark and filthy corridor in the palace. It had originally been a servant's passage, but was now in disuse. Covered in cobwebs and other things that Adam didn't even want to know, they made their way down it with only a single torch to guide them.

The faerie had kept adamantly silent since they had shaken on their deal. He had simply revealed a secret entrance to the palace, and lead him down it.

Now, they were deep in the middle of the palace. Adam could tell by the noise and sounds of the court that could be heard through the thin walls.

'Are we almost there?' Adam asked impatiently.

The faerie didn't respond, but continued to walk down the black and dirty passage.

Adam had no choice but to continue to follow him.

They walked for about another ten minutes, Adam got more and more lost the further into the palace.

Suddenly, without warning; the faerie stopped.

He gestured to the door before him.

Adam tried to squeeze past the faerie, but he caught Adam's arm as he went past, halting him.

'I go no further. The Duchess won't be there. She's occupied.' The faerie told him.

'Then what's in there?' Adam asked, the secrecy beginning to annoy him.

'The Duchess's secret chamber. It holds her most precious possession. That's what you need to find.'

Adam stopped in shock. This would definitely help him to win her hand.

'But, I warn you; use it with caution. There will be heavy price to pay. Limit yourself to the smallest amount of questions possible. Don't waste them.'

Adam's mind spun with the strangeness of what the faerie had just said.

The faerie let go on his arm, and stepped back to let Adam pass.

'You have ten minutes, don't waste them.' He said.

Adam's hand rested on the handle of the door. It was covered in dust and cobwebs, but Adam ignored it as he pushed the door open.

Light flooded the corridor; illuminating all the dirt of the passage. Adam stepped out into the spacious room. The door closed behind him with a loud click.

Looking around the room, Adam searched for this precious object.

But the room was bear.

Only one door stood on the left hand side of the room. The door he had entered through was concealed in the wall. It was so hidden that if Adam hadn't just come through it, he would never have guessed that it was there.

The room was empty.

There was nothing.

Not even a table.

Adam frantically looked around for this object he was supposed to consult.

Nothing.

Adam's blood boiled. The faerie had led him on a wild goose chase. He had been played, completely.

He turned around to walk out, back into the dark passage. But something went right through him, and caused him to stop.

 _Adam._

 _Adam Weston._

It was like a whisper, or a tremor. It filled the room, going right through Adam's bones.

He turned back around slowly.

His gaze was drawn higher and higher, until it landed on the one single object in the room, attached to the wall high above him.

A large and intricate mirror.

It was beautiful. Like nothing Adam had ever seen before.

So many delicately carved edges decorated the frame, and the glass within it was utterly perfect. Not a single scratch or imperfection.

It was simply perfect.

 _Adam._

The whisper sounded again, sending vibrations right through Adam. He stood, frozen, gazing at that mirror.

 _What do you wish to know? I can tell you the answer to any question you pose to me._

Adam's heart raced. This was her most precious possession? He supposed that if she had something that could tell her anything in the world, then of course it would be extremely precious to her.

And he had the opportunity to use it, for his own gain.

Adam took a deep breath, and began to think.

The faerie had warned him to keep his questions to a minimum. He said there was a steep price for asking questions.

So, Adam wouldn't waste his time.

Drawing himself up to his full height, he swallowed and cleared his throat. His conquest of the Duchess was almost assured now, so he knew the question he had to ask the mirror.

'When will the Duchess and I be married?' Adam asked, in the most confident voice he could conjure.

Several seconds passed, and Adam swore that his heartbeat was so loud that it would be able to be heard in the next county.

 _Never._ The whisper said.

Adam stopped breathing.

 _You will never marry the Duchess. You will wed your true love._

Adam almost scoffed at the mirror.

True love?

True Love!

True love didn't exist. It had never existed.

The notion of it was plainly ridiculous.

There was no such thing as true love, his father had taught him that much.

But then, that meant….

That meant Adam was never going to marry.

If there was no true love, then he would have no bride, if what this mirror said was correct.

He was about to turn away, when the perfect surface of the mirror began to move, slowly.

His eyes were immediately drawn to it. He watched as it contorted until there were two letters etched onto the smooth surface.

 _I.G_

They were there for a moment, and then disappeared, as if it had never been.

Adam blinked in disbelief. It had just disappeared. Maybe it had never been there. Maybe this magic mirror was playing tricks on him.

Before Adam had chance to think of another question to ask the mirror, a large gust of wind filled the room.

Suddenly, a sharp pain flew through Adam's chest. Something pulled and ripped at something in his chest, forcing him to his knees, as he screamed and clawed at his chest.

It didn't go away, as he felt something pull and pull. The pain was blinding. He couldn't think or do anything other than scream.

Finally, something ripped away, and the pain disappeared.

Adam blinked away the tears that had formed, and closed his mouth; his throat still raw from screaming.

Patting his chest, he found no injury, nothing to mark what had just happened. He almost laughed in disbelief.

 _What else do you wish to know?_

Adam's had snapped back upward, to where the mirror was still there, hanging.

That thing had caused him so much pain.

Was that the price? Whenever a question was asked, that amount of pain was inflicted on the asker?

If that was the case, Adam decided in that moment that he never wanted to have any more interactions with that blasted item.

After all, he'd already gotten all of the answers he needed.

He was never going to marry. Not just the Duchess, anyone. True love did not exist, so he was destined never to marry.

Climbing of his knees, he stood before that horrid, damned object.

'Nothing.' He spat out. Adam quickly turned on his heel, and made his way to the door as quickly as he could.

Pushing the secret door with far too much force, he almost ran back into the passage, and as far away from that evil mirror as he could.

The faerie was waiting for him on the other side.

'Did you find out what you needed to?' He asked.

Adam ignored him, and walked right past.

'Um… Ah hem.' The faerie coughed. 'I believe you belong to me for a week now.'

Adam stopped, and gritted his teeth. Why had he made that stupid, idiotic bargain?

'Come on, you have chores to attend to.' The faerie told him, moving towards him.

Adam turned on the faerie slowly.

'What did it do?' He asked, his voice rough and angry.

The faerie stopped.

'You mean; you don't know?' He asked.

Adam didn't move.

The faerie smirked.

'Every question asked, requires a price. The price of using the mirror is a piece of your soul.'

Adam wasn't even surprised. Something inside knew that the moment the pain had started.

'Your soul is blackened now you have used it. Forever.' The faerie told him.

Adam didn't react. None of this was a shock. He had felt it; his soul being ripped away from him. That was why it had hurt so much.

'So, what did it say?' The faerie asked.

'That I will wed for true love. Something that doesn't exist. I will never love or be married.' Adam told him.

The faerie simply raised his eyebrow and continued to walk past Adam.

'Come on, you have work to do.'

Adam took a deep breath. A promise was a promise, and no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't go back on his word. Maybe if the person he had shaken with hadn't been a faerie, he might have been able to get out of it, but he knew better than to double cross a faerie.

Begrudgingly, he followed the faerie down the dark and filthy passage, towards a week of hell.

* * *

To Adam, servitude to the faerie was every bit as bad as he thought it would be.

He was forced to spend all morning preparing breakfast, and to begin to peel vegetable for dinner that night. He would spend hours of isolation, sat at a table, peeling potatoes and carrots until his fingers bled.

He hated it.

Completely loathed every second.

But nothing compared to the amount of hate he held in his heart for the faerie who had enslaved him.

Adam spent the hours doing chores thinking up new and horrid way to make as much trouble for the faerie once he was free of this stupid agreement.

His mind was consumed with thoughts of hate and loathing. For everyone, for everything.

Nothing could touch his heart, his soul.

He was completely consumed with the need to blot out every bit of light in his life, every scrap of good.

The faerie watched him with amusement, knowing exactly how the mirror and his new circumstances had affected him.

The faerie knew well the effects of that magic mirror. He had seen it happen many times before.

But he knew all hope was not lost on Adam. He had a destiny to fulfill, even though he knew it not.

Although the fae had meant well, it had completely the opposite effect on Adam.

The faerie knew exactly what was in store for Adam in the future, and had tried to help. He had thought that maybe if he could appreciate the work his servants did for him, he would be more grateful to them in the days and years to come.

But, Adam fell more and more into the blackness of his soul. Each passing hour, he became more hateful and horrid.

The faerie knew it was no fault of his own. The mirror worked its magic well. But that left Adam with a much harder destiny to face.

Despite the faerie enchanter's best effort to get him to appreciate what he had, Adam became more and more cold hearted. He viewed his servitude not as his saving grace, but as further reason to punish those who were not as fortunate as himself.

The faerie began to despair. He knew something had to be done. There were certain events in the future that must happen, and it was his task to get them to come to fruition.

And Adam had a large part to play, whether he liked it or not.

On the last day of his servitude, the enchanter tasked Adam with picking Roses from his garden. It was one last effort to try and get him to see the that the world could be full of beauty and wonder.

The faerie's roses were enchanted, and he took great pride in growing them. When they bloomed, each and every one of them was a perfect flower. So perfect and beautiful.

He had hoped that Adam would be able to see the wonder in them and that it might melt his cold heart.

But, as he watched Adam pluck them, he knew he had failed him.

Adam violently tore at the stems of the roses, cutting himself on the thorns frequently. He cursed them and tugged on them until they broke free. He carelessly tossed them onto the pile, cursing the faerie who had made him do this.

He couldn't see. He didn't understand.

The faerie began to despair. There were only a few things left he could try. He could not fail in his task; he would not fail.

The best thing he could do was wait. Time may soften his heart, and teach him the lessons he needed to know.

But if that didn't work, then the faerie would have to think of something far more drastic. Something that Adam couldn't ignore. Something that may seem highly unfair at the time, but would be necessary.

Three years, that's how long he would wait. Three years, and if nothing had happened, then he would intervene again.

So, as the faerie sat and watched Adam curse his name to high hell, he began to plan for what he would need to do, in order to save Adam from himself.

In order for Adam to fulfill his destiny.

And it all involved a certain true love of his.

* * *

AN- Hi Everyone!

Hopefully, this one shot explains a little more about what exactly went on at the end of AHA. I know it didn't make much sense at the time, but I hope I've done a good enough job to explain it a little better.

Part 3 of Marion's story is now online, and will be published about twice a week.

Once again, please review! I love getting them, and I haven't really had any recently. It would mean to world to me if I knew someone was still reading my work.

Please continue to enjoy. There will be more Marion and more one shots, so just hang on in there.

Thank you so much to everyone who is still reading this!

Generic fangirl.


	4. Christopher

**Christopher.**

 **Three days before the Ball.**

The doors flung open as Christopher almost skipped into the room.

The smile on his face wouldn't disappear, not that Christopher had tried to supress it.

He was floating on air. He had left the earth and was soaring amongst the stars. His soul felt lighter than it ever had in his entire life.

Removing the cloak he was wearing, Christopher let himself fall into the waiting chair. The cloak fell to the ground. He would give it to the servants later to wash. He had managed to get the entire thing covered in mud.

At least he didn't have to clear it up. He had servants to do that for him.

No, all of Christopher's thoughts were centred around a certain girl.

A girl he had just met in the forest.

A beautiful, lovely, amazing girl.

He couldn't stop thinking of her, no matter how hard he tried.

She simply wouldn't leave his thoughts.

The beautiful golden haired girl.

She had looked so lovely, trying to push her broken cart out of the mud. She had been so grateful for his help as they both laboured to get the cart moving again, so she could complete her task in bringing the clothes to the poor village of Rault.

She had been so kind, so thoughtful.

And so beautiful.

It had been chance alone that had drawn him to that particular part of the forest to hunt. Never had he expected to find such a lovely maiden.

She had been helpless, stuck in the mud with her cart. It had been just pure dumb luck that he happened to be riding by alone when she most needed help to move her cart.

And Christopher could not be more pleased.

Sighing, Christopher pushed himself out of the chair, and went to pull the rope to summon the servants. He also picked up his mud covered cloak along the way; he didn't really want to make more work for the servants than he already had.

Three more days.

In three days, he'd be able to see her again.

His father had been the one how had insisted on having the ball in the first place. Something about a great tradition when a young man became of age.

And Christopher had hated the idea. He didn't want to have to endure an entire evening of society women, clawing at him to try and trick him into marriage. He'd had to deal with plenty of that already.

He and his father had spent hours arguing over it. But as usual, his father won out. You didn't become a great ruler of the county without learning a thing or two about winning arguments. But Christopher had been picking things up, slowly, and had managed to emerge with a compromise. Not only were the local nobility invited to the ball, but so was everyone. The doors had been opened to everyone.

Christopher loved the people. The common people.

There were many times in his school days when he, James, Philip and Antony had managed to sneak out of Ashburne to run down to the local village to join in the low born celebrations, they were always more fun than the highborn ones.

Common people were just so free. They didn't have to adhere to rules of society. Their dances were so simple that you could actually talk to your partner while you danced; and not worry about putting a foot wrong. There wasn't protocols for who you had to dance with, or where you sat at a table. You didn't have to spend hours practicing getting every single step correct.

They simply just had fun.

Surely that girl had been to many common gatherings. Her pretty blue dress had been a little ragged, so he guessed she was a low born. Not that it mattered of course. Christopher had never cared for rank. He was friends with most of the servants in the palace, and he would care for that girl no matter what she was, princess or peasant.

That amazing girl.

Christopher would never forget meeting her.

 _Riding through the forest, Christopher cloak flew behind him. The hunt was on. He had been parted from the rest of his hunting party, but that didn't phase him._

 _The horse was keeping a steady pace as he searched for signs that an animal had been there recently. But there was nothing. Eventually he found his way onto the main path, and was pulled to a halt almost immediately._

 _There, blocking the path ahead, was a small cart, containing one large trunk. It was stuck in the mud, the wheel refusing to move._

 _A young woman with long golden hair stood at the side of the cart, trying to encourage the horse to walk forward, as she attempted to push from the back. But nothing seemed to be working._

 _Christopher stopped, and straight away hopped off his horse._

 _'_ _Excuse me, miss?' He shouted to her._

 _She spun around, her hair fanning out as she did._

 _Christopher stopped._

 _She was beautiful. Utterly, devastatingly beautiful. Her brown eyes were bright, and her cheeks were red with the exercise of trying to unstick the cart._

 _Christopher was instantly under her spell._

 _She gave him a small shy smile._

 _'_ _I'm so sorry. My cart won't move. If you want to get past-'_

 _'_ _No.' He almost shouted._

 _He didn't want to get past her. He wanted to stay right there._

 _'_ _Oh.' Was all she said, looking back to her horse._

 _'_ _Sorry, that was rude. I didn't mean it like that.' Christopher told her._

 _'_ _It's quite alright.' She said. Her words dripped from her mouth like honey, and Christopher's soul begged to hear more._

 _'_ _Would you like some assistance? You seem to be rather stuck.' He said, gesturing to her cart._

 _'_ _If I'm not keeping you from anything. I would like that very much' She told him. He moved to tie his horse to a nearby tree, but found he couldn't take his eyes of the enchanting girl._

 _She blushed as he managed to drop the reins of his horse, having not actually tied them properly to the tree. He mumbled an apology, and she giggled a little. Christopher decided at that moment that he had never heard a sound that he wanted to hear more than her laugh. It was infectious, the giggles tumbling from those beautiful red lips. A smile formed on his face before he could realise what was happening._

 _He tied the horse up, securely this time, and made his way towards her. Standing at her side, he assessed what exactly was wrong with the cart. It appeared that the right hand wheel had gotten stuck in the ditch of fresh mud, and was now refusing to move. But as he looked at the cart, he couldn't help but be hopelessly aware how close he was standing to her._

 _His hands went clammy, and his throat went dry. There was such pounding in his ears, and his heart beat so fast that he was certain she could hear it._

 _But she didn't seem to react. She was none the wiser as to the internal turmoil she was causing him._

 _He turned his attention back to the cart._

 _'_ _I think, if we can get this trunk off the back, we might be able to lift it and push, if your horse will move at the same time.' Christopher told her, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye._

 _She nodded. 'So, I'll climb up there and push the trunk, you lower it to the ground.' Her voice sounded a little raspy, like she too had a dry throat._

 _Christopher supressed the proud joy that was rising inside of him. Was she as affected by him as he was by her?_

 _She gracefully sat on the back of the cart, and swung her legs up, and then pushed herself upwards. It was so dainty; Christopher could watch her do that for hours._

 _She made her way to stand behind the trunk, and braced her hands securely on either side of it._

 _'_ _Ready?' She asked. Christopher nodded._

 _'_ _One, two, three.' She counted, and then pushed the trunk, gritting her teeth as she did. The trunk slowly scraped across the wooden floor of the cart and began to fall into Christopher's waiting arms. It tilted when over half of it was hanging off the back of the cart. The weight was enough to make Christopher grunt in surprise._

 _'_ _Woah, what on earth is in here?' He asked, as it began to slide with some speed. He caught it and lowered it carefully to the ground. The girl let out a sigh of relief, and wiped her brow._

 _Christopher had never seen a more beautiful sight; she was stood atop a cart, the sun streaming behind her, illuminating her lovely golden locks, her face red from the exertions of the morning, smiling as she breathed deeply. The skirt of her blue dress ruffled in the wind, and made her hair dance a little._

 _She was slim, almost too thin. Her dress fell a little loosely around her tiny waist. Most girls could only dream of owning such a figure, they spent great amounts of time fashioning themselves into those shaped through constant corset wearing, but this girl made it look effortless._

 _'_ _It's only dresses.' She told him, sitting down at the back of the cart, trying to get her breath back._

 _'_ _Dresses for what?' Christopher asked._

 _'_ _For the Duke's ball.' She told him._

 _Christopher silently cursed himself. Of course they were for the ball, it was the only thing happening in the next week, the only thing that everyone talked about._

 _'_ _May I?' He asked her, gesturing to the space next to her on the cart. She nodded, and Christopher walked up to it and sat next to her._

 _'_ _Are you going to the ball?' He asked hopefully, praying with every fibre of his being that she was._

 _But, to his surprise, she shook her head._

 _Christopher's blood ran cold. She had to come. He had to make her want to come._

 _'_ _Why ever not? Everyone's invited. Even I'm going!' He joked. He kept to himself that he was the very reason it was being held in the first place_

 _She smiled a little, but she looked sad._

 _'_ _I don't think I will be permitted to go.' She told him. 'But I can help other's go. They can tell me their stories.'_

 _Christopher was taken aback by how selfless she was._

 _'_ _Is that what the dresses are for?' He asked._

 _'_ _Yes. I'm taking them to Rault. I know a girl there who desperately wants to go, but can't afford a dress. These ones aren't being used, so I thought I would put them to good use. There's more than enough to help most of the girls there go.'_

 _Christopher had never heard such a lovely thing in his life. This girl was simply incredible._

 _'_ _But what about yourself? Don't you want to go?' He asked tentatively._

 _'_ _It's not possible.' She replied sadly._

 _He shook his head._

 _'_ _Nothing is impossible, unless you believe it to be so.' He told her. It was a phrase his mother had taught him long ago._

 _'_ _And I for one would love to see you there. I think you'd make quite the belle of the ball in a ball gown.' He told her._

 _She blushed, and her gaze dropped to the floor. She clearly wasn't used to getting compliments, something that Christopher would have liked to remedy instantly._

 _'_ _You would.' He said softly._

 _'_ _You're too kind.' She told him, looking up to meet his gaze._

 _'_ _No, I'm really…really…not.' Christopher responded, in a breathy tone. He was lost, lost completely in those beautiful deep brown eyes._

 _Neither of them spoke for a few moments. It seemed like neither of them wanted to tear their gaze from the other one. Christopher's heart soared._

 _'_ _Please come. You will make my night far more enjoyable if you come.' He told her._

 _She appeared to think about it for a moment._

 _'_ _I mean, what is really holding you back? You clearly have enough dresses to go. Just come, if only for an hour. Just so I can see you again.'_

 _'_ _I'll…I'll think about it.' She told him quietly._

 _'_ _Good.' He said._

 _She blushed again and looked back down to the floor._

 _'_ _We should probably try and move the cart, I'm sure you have some place to be.' She said in a quiet voice, as if she didn't really want to move it._

 _'_ _Yes, you're quite right.' Christopher conceded. He hopped off the back of the cart, and then held out his hand to her. She took it gratefully, and daintily jumped off the back too._

 _They then decided it would be best if they stood one in front of the wheel that was stuck, and one behind it, and both pull. Christopher was able to reach the rear of the horse if he stood at the front, so they counted down and both lifted, while Christopher gave the horse a quick slap, and the entire thing moved, the wheel breaking free of its muddy prison._

 _The girl cheered in relief when it moved, and they pushed it forwards, well out of danger of falling back into the muddy patch. Then, carefully, they both lowered it back onto the path._

 _'_ _Oh, thank you so much.' The girl cried, smiling with joy as she did._

 _'_ _It's nothing.' Christopher admitted. 'Shall we move this trunk back up?'_

 _She nodded, and between the two of them, they lifted the trunk up with ease and shoved it onto the back of the cart. Once it was securely deposited on the back, they both sighed in relief._

 _'_ _Really, thank you ever so much for helping me.' The girl said. 'If there is ever anything I can do to repay you…'_

 _'_ _You could start by coming to the Duke's ball and dancing with me.' Christopher declared boldly. 'I'll save my first dance for you.'_

 _He omitted the detail about the fact he had to dance the first dance to open the ball._

 _She gave him a shy smile._

 _'_ _Maybe I will see you there then.' She told him in a shy tone._

 _'_ _Now, that won't do.' He teased. 'I can't save my first dance for someone who may be there. I would like your utter assurance.'_

 _She gave him a much bolder smile._

 _'_ _Well then, save that dance for me.' She told him, beaming as she did._

 _Internally, Christopher was jumping up and down with joy. She had agreed, she was coming to the ball._

 _Externally, he simply gave her a large smile, before reaching forwards and boldly taking her hand._

 _'_ _Then, my good lady, I will see you on the night of the ball.'_

 _He lifted her hand slowly, and placed a soft kiss on the back of her hand, not taking his eyes off her once. Her face turned a delightful shade of pink._

 _Releasing her hand, it dropped back to her side. She turned around and climbed onto the front of the cart, and took the reins in hand._

 _'_ _Thank you again. For being such a gentleman.' She told him._

 _'_ _It is nothing. I will see you in three days then.' He said._

 _She nodded. 'Three days.'_

 _He beamed. Only three days until he saw her again._

 _She gave him one last smile, before shaking the horse's reins and she began to ride off into the distance, towards the village of Rault._

 _Christopher watched until she disappeared from view. Then, once he was sure she was gone, he walked back to his own horse, smiling like an idiot as he did._

 _What a wonderful girl._

* * *

The day of the ball arrived, and the entire palace was a flurry of activity. Every single member of the army of servants had tasks to complete. Prudence had even gone as far as to enlist the help of some of the visitor's servants.

But Christopher paid no attention to any of it.

His head was still consumed with thoughts of that lovely golden haired girl. He hadn't paid attention to anything else, at all. Nothing could drag him out of his fine mood. Not even the arrival of his school mate, Adam. He had arrived at the palace the day before, and had stayed the night as his castle was too far away. He had always been an unpleasant young man, but there was something about him recently that had made him even more horrid. He had shouted at his servant, a poor red haired boy, for being a few seconds late to opening the carriage door. Christopher whispered quietly to Prudence who had been stood next to him, to give the young man a little slack. He clearly wasn't treated very well by Adam. Prudence had nodded slightly.

Adam had greeted him briefly, and then instantly demanded to be shown to his rooms. Christopher had obliged him, and had not seen him since, not that he minded at all.

Normally, he would have tried his best to include Adam, to try and extend the hand of friendship. But his mind was too occupied with a beautiful golden haired girl to even think of that.

He was going to see her tonight, and he couldn't wait.

Christopher had begged for time to simply speed up. He just wanted the celebration to begin.

He wanted to see her enter the room, looking stunning in a ball gown. Her long golden hair would cascade down her back, and her face would light up when she saw him.

He could picture her face; it was what consumed every moment.

And he was going to see her again in a few short hours.

By the time the small carriage pulled up to the front of the palace, Christopher's head was still spinning with delight. His face was the canvas for the largest grin anyone had ever seen.

So, when the carriage door opened, and his friend stepped out, the first thing that the young man said was, 'I knew you were happy I was coming Christopher, but you look like the village idiot.'

Christopher pulled James in for a short hug.

'I missed you too, but not quite that much,' James told him, his usual rather arrogant expression lining his face.

'I am glad to see you, but there's something I need to discuss with you.' Christopher told him.

'My, my, I never thought I would see the day that Christopher Howards would come to me for advice!' James said. 'Come on, can I at least get inside first. I am in desperate need of a drink.'

Christopher nodded, and gestured for his dearest friend to go on inside.

They sat in Christopher's private sitting room, an open bottle of wine between them. James swirled the dark red liquid around his glass while Christopher told him all about the encounter with the lovely golden haired girl. He talked and talked, for a good long time, and James listened intently.

'So, basically, there was a girl in the forest, you fell in love with her, and she's coming tonight.' James said, very matter of factly. 'You could literally say that in one sentence.'

'I wouldn't say I'm in love with her…' Christopher said.

'Oh please!' James sighed. 'You've just gone on about the exact golden shade of her hair for the last twenty minutes! You are clearly in love with her!'

Christopher sighed, but was unable to find anything to say in retaliation.

'Told you.' James teased.

Christopher nodded.

'Maybe I am. But she is just so perfect!' He muttered.

'Does this mysterious girl even have a name?' James asked.

Christopher's heart stopped.

He didn't know her name.

In all the time he'd been thinking about her, he had never once thought to ask her name.

'No, I don't.' Christopher admitted.

James sighed loudly.

'Do you mean to tell me, that you have fallen completely in love with a lowborn girl, and you don't even know her name?'

Embarrassed, Christopher nodded.

James simply rolled his eyes.

'Well, this will be fun to explain to your father!' He said.

'Don't!' Christopher blurted out. 'He doesn't know, and I'm almost sure he won't approve.'

'Asking me to keep secrets now, are you?' James toyed with him.

Christopher only scoffed.

'When have you ever told on me to my father? What are you going to do, just walk up and start talking to him about me?'

'Getting your father to talk would be a miracle in itself. He's not exactly the most sociable type of fellow, is he?' James said. 'And no, of course I won't say anything.'

Christopher breathed a sigh of relief.

'Was this girl with anyone else, or all alone?' James asked, placing his feet up on the table before him.

'She was by herself, but said she was going to deliver dresses to her friend.' Christopher told him.

'Interesting…' James said, more to himself than anyone else.

'Why?' Christopher asked curiously.

'If you're in love with this girl, do you think her friend will be interested in me?' James asked arrogantly. 'Just think, we could have a double wedding.'

Christopher laughed.

'I think you are doing alright for women who are in love with you.' Christopher told James, raising his eyebrow at him.

James scoffed. 'Says you! Practically every highborn woman in the country wants to marry the heir to the Howards' fortune. You have your pick from all of them.'

'But I don't want them, I want her. I'm not in love with any of them.'

'Well, I haven't been in love with any of the girls who claim to love me. I have a heart too! It might not be as completely insane as yours apparently, but I want to fall in love, some day.' James told him, with a tone of honestly about it. 'But it would be mightily convenient if this girl's friend happens to like me, now wouldn't it.'

Christopher chuckled with the absurdity of James' logic.

'It would, wouldn't it.' He said.

A sharp knock sounded at the door.

Christopher knew that knock, knew it very well.

'Come in Prudence.'

The door swung open, and the familiar face of Prudence the housekeeper came into view. Her face paled when she saw the open bottle of wine sat on the table between the two of them.

'What in heaven's name are you doing drinking at this time of day?' She cried, hurrying forward and grabbing the bottle.

'We were only having one. James had a hard journey.' Christopher told her. He had learned a long time ago not to mess with Prudence. Learned the hard way.

'You have a celebration to host tonight. I have enough to do without you two making my life more difficult!' She cried. Placing the bottle of wine in the open cupboard, she rounded on the two of them.

'No more drinking, until the ball. It starts in an hour. I would suggest getting changed. If either of you puts one foot out of line, so help me, I will find a way to make the rest of you time here as unpleasant as possible.'

Both of the men sat and nodded.

Prudence huffed a little and turned around to walk out of the door.

'Oh, Prudence, did you give that poor boy some time off? The red haired one?'

'Yes, he just got back. I think he went for a walk in the forest.'

'Maybe he saw your girl?' James muttered under his breath.

Christopher went bright red, from both anger and embarrassment.

'Maybe, yours.' Christopher teased back.

James just chuckled. 'Little chance of that.'

'Ah, hem.' Prudence coughed. Both of them snapped their heads up to look at her.

'If you're quite done…' She told them.

'Sorry, Prudence. I'm glad to hear that. I'll let you get back to your work.' Christopher apologised.

'Good. No drink, get changed.' She told them curtly, and then closed the door firmly behind her.

'On that pleasant note…' James said, standing up. 'I think I better go and get changed. After all, I have a girl to impress tonight.'

'So do I.' Christopher said, the smile spreading across his face.

'I'm presuming I'm in the usual room?' James asked.

Christopher nodded.

'So, I'll see you in an hour. I suppose I'll get to see you for about ten minutes before she shows up and whisks you off your feet.' James told him, with a small smirk.

'I hope so.' Christopher replied, his heart already beginning to speed up.

James opened the door and stepped through, and closed it behind him with a click.

Christopher was left with his own thoughts.

And they once again, instantly converged on a certain girl.

Tonight.

He would see her tonight.

And he never wanted to be parted from her, ever again.

* * *

AN- Seeing as though the last three one shots had been fairly depressing, I decided I needed to write one that was happier. The next one is going to be depressing again, sorry.

As always, thank you to everyone for reading, and please leave a review!


	5. Queen Matilda

**Queen Matilda**

 **Eighteen years, and nine months before the curse on the castle.**

The throne stood proudly before her, as Matilda grasped tightly onto her husband's arm. Her legs were trembling, but she did not falter one step.

All of the eyes of the court were upon her. Hundreds of pairs of eyes were focused on her every move, watching with scrutiny, hoping for her to mess up.

They already whispered to each other, behind her back. It was impossible to miss it.

All of them were scheming snakes, always wanting to get one step further ahead, one step higher in the world. More rank meant more money to line their pockets. Those old men were repulsive, all they wanted as much gold as they could possibly get their grubby little hands on.

Matilda kept her head up high, and her breathing steady. She was the queen. She shouldn't let the courtiers affect her so.

The crown pushed down on her temple. Its weight was almost impossible to bear.

And the responsibilities it came with.

That was the source of all of her troubles.

Matilda ascended the Dias, and sat gracefully on her throne.

The throne she was not worthy of.

The audience session began, and her husband began to listen to the matters of state brought before them. Matilda couldn't listen.

For she was the biggest matter of state in the room.

The largest problem to the country.

Her inability to carry the weight of the crown upon her head.

The court whispered and plotted, and she was powerless to stop them. There was only one way to put the rumours to rest, and that was utterly impossible.

So, Matilda sat their motionless, the proper image of obedience and virtue.

The hours passed, and the court grew weary of the petty squabbles and dull pieces of legislature that needed seeing to. Eventually, her husband called an end to the session for the day. Matilda breathed a secret sigh of relief, and rose from her throne. The court bowed to her, and she curtsied to her husband. Then, elegantly, she walked back down the centre of the room, the courtiers clearing a path for her. She kept her gaze firmly ahead, not looking at any of her subjects. Without her husband to lean on, she had to do it herself, and bear their looks of disproval.

The doors at the end of the chamber opened with a loud boom. Matilda walked through the doors, not missing one single step. The very image of a perfect queen. All apart from one crucial quality.

She walked calmly down the long hallway of the royal palace, aware that there were eyes everywhere. The crown she wore was giving her a headache.

Her chamber came into view, and Matilda could have cried. But only when she had walked through the doorway and the large wooden door closed firmly behind her, did she let herself breathe.

She pulled off the crown, almost gasping in relief. She had dismissed her ladies in waiting earlier that day, claiming she had no need of them, so at least now, she was alone. Her hand shook as she pulled the metal pins that were painfully sticking in the back of her head out of her long light blonde hair. They fell to the ground, clattering as they did.

Pulling at the strings at the back of her dress, she managed to loosen them a little, enough so she could breathe. Once she was comfortable, she collapsed into the waiting chair.

They all knew. She was certain. Every single one of them knew their queen was a failure.

This could spell danger for all who lived in their kingdom. This could lead to war, and the slaughtering of her people. All because she was not capable of the one thing every other woman in the world was capable of.

Standing on shaking legs, Matilda made her way across her room, to the door that had been kept locked. The key, she always kept close, on a chain around her neck. It sat there constantly, and some days, it felt like it was strangling her. But she pulled it until she held the small key in her hand, and placed it in the lock.

The door swung open.

The room before her was light and airy, as it always was. It had been kept ready since her wedding, nearly seven years ago.

She had been hopeful then. So had everyone.

Taking a step inside the large room, Matilda's gaze was fixed solely on the object stood in the centre of the room, sunlight reflecting off the white cotton sheet that lay over it.

She swallowed, reached forward, and pulled the sheet down.

The crib.

The empty crib stood before her, taunting her.

Ready and waiting for the child that would never come.

Seven years of marriage.

Seven years of trying for a child.

It had never once happened.

The entire court knew. Matilda was pretty certain that most of the country knew at this point.

Their queen was barren.

She would never provide the king with a child.

Without a child, there was no heir to the throne. Once her husband died, civil war would break out, nobles fighting each other for who was next in line for the crown. There were many who had a legitimate claim, and would not surrender easily.

How many countless men would die because their lords wanted the power of the crown?

How many hundreds of men would perish, and their families starve, because their queen could not do such a simple thing as conceive.

There were many girls who had wished for Matilda's inability to bear children, especially when they themselves found themselves in trouble. But Matilda's heart was heavy. She could not complete the one task she had been given when she had married into all this wealth and power.

Her husband was remarkably kind and understanding. He had assured her many times that this was a common problem, and that children were a blessing, and that her infertility was not a curse. They had married for love, and he would love her if she gave him children or not.

While it was true they had married for love, their two families had strongly encouraged the match. As she was the daughter of a duke, she was deemed a suitable choice for the young prince, liking each other was only an added extra.

She had seen countless physicians who all told her the same thing, that they couldn't see what was the problem with her. One of them even had the gall to mention that it might be her husband's problem and not hers, but no one would hear of it. He was the King. There couldn't possibly be an issue with the King. He was of the royal line, and she was not.

The royal cradle stood before her, the ghosts of the royal children of times gone by haunted her.

A broad hand gently rested on her shoulder.

'Tilly, you shouldn't be in here. We've gone through this.' The warm and comforting voice told her.

'I know.' She said, with a shaking voice, 'But I can't help it.'

Her husband's other arm circled her waist, and pulled her into his chest.

'It's alright. I promise, it will all work itself out.' He whispered, kissing the side of her head gently.

'You don't know that.' She countered.

'Yes I do. I'm the King, I apparently know everything.' He joked. 'Today, I am a leading expert on the legalities of wall building during land disputes.'

Matilda tried to smile, but came up short.

'Come on. Dinner will be arriving soon. You should either do up your dress, or get changed. If you need help taking those clothes off, I can oblige you…' He told her, his voice becoming more rough.

The corner of her mouth twitched up a little, as her husband took her hand and led her back to her rooms.

* * *

The next morning dawned warm and bright. The air was filled with birdsong and the scents of the summer flowers.

Matilda still was not in good spirits.

She didn't think she would ever be again.

Regardless of her husband's attempts to cheer her up, she still heard the word 'failure' being whispered around the court. They all knew it.

Which is why Matilda preferred her own company to those of her ladies.

She wandered along the river bank, no really paying much attention to where she was heading. The water calmed her. It was steady and constant, something that could always be relied on.

Matilda didn't have anyone other than her husband who she could fully trust.

Even her own parents had scolded her for the death of their family line. The two people in the world she thought she could always be relied upon to love her, they felt her failure, and did nothing to help. Her mother had told her in no uncertain terms that it was all her fault, and she needed to make more of an effort to please her husband, as she clearly wasn't doing a good enough job. That night, Matilda had sobbed and sobbed as she locked the door between her rooms and her husband's. She couldn't face him. Not after that.

Stefan however, had told her not to listen to her mother, told her through the door that lay between them. He had told her he would sit by the door all night if she wouldn't let him in. All night, words and whispers of love passed from his lips, onto her deaf ears.

Matilda tried to block out the memories of that night from a year ago. The warm summer air swirled and danced around her, trying feebly to lift her spirits.

The river was deserted. There was a celebration for midsummer happening in the palace. Matilda hadn't wished to go. She had told the servants that she was feeling ill, and she had begged Stefan to make her excuses. He had agreed, but reluctantly. She knew he was hurting too, and she was powerless to stop it. As much as he tried to hide it from her, tried to support her, she knew he also wanted a child. They both had. They had discussed baby names only a few months into their marriage. It had been one of the happiest nights they had spent together, a time when they had time for each other, before the politics of the court had gotten to them, and made their souls weary.

But no more. Now, after five years of ruling, it had become too much. The two of them were no longer the young lovers they once were. Responsibilities and pressures had worn them down.

So, whenever Matilda had the opportunity to avoid the court and have time to herself, she took it.

The river flowed down into the fields, willow trees lining the bank. The queen kept walking, trying to get as much distance from the sounds of the castle celebrating. She really wasn't in the mood. Light danced off the surface of the water, shooting small colourful bundles of light into her eyes. Matilda stopped to stare at them for a little while, the rainbow of colours making her forget her troubles for just a few short moments.

'Why do you weep, your majesty?' A voice asked.

Matilda jumped, and whirled around to see an old beggar woman sat between the branches of the nearest willow tree. Her hair was pinned back, in a loose bun, but there were just enough gaps between the strands of her matted grey hair to show long pointed ears.

Faerie ears.

Matilda stood frozen. There was no one nearby, no one to come to her aid, no one would hear her if she screamed.

'Why do you weep?' The woman asked again. Her old and ragged shawl was wrapped tightly around her, and the dark dress she wore underneath was tattered. If it hadn't been for the ears, she could have passed for a traveling woman.

The queens hand flew to her cheek, were indeed there were tears staining them. They were flowing down her face like the river she was stood directly next to. She had been crying without even realising it.

'I…uh….I do not weep.' She stuttered.

The woman simply raised her eyebrow in question.

'Yes, you do.' The woman told her.

Matilda was at a loss for words. She had no answer for this woman. This faerie.

'I wish to be left alone. Please excuse me.' Matilda told her, before turning around and taking two steps back down the path she had just made her way down.

'Wait.' The woman cried.

Matilda's feet stopped. She wasn't sure if she had wanted to stop moving, or if the faerie had made her stop. The queen's heart began hammering in her chest.

'Please, I wish to be alone.' The queen told her.

'Your majesty, I know what grieves you.' The woman said.

The words echoed around Matilda's head.

'That is why I am here. I have been sent to help.'

Matilda didn't dare move, didn't dare even turn around to look at her.

It was no surprise that she knew. Everyone knew. No matter how they tried to hide it, almost everyone in the kingdom knew what plagued the royal couple.

But someone sent to help?

Sent by who?

Why?

However, there was one fatal flaw in her statement.

Sent to help, that implied that Matilda still had hope.

She had lost it long ago. She had accepted her fate, which was why she was so affected by it. There was no hope for her.

'There is nothing you could possibly do for me, so if you don't mind-'

'Do you not want a child?' The faerie interrupted her.

Matilda's world stopped.

The answer to the faeries question rose in her throat. It pulled and begged to be released.

Of course she wanted a child, more than anything else in the world. Not only for herself, but for her kingdom.

She turned slowly to face the woman still sat lazily in the tree behind her.

'Surely you must already know the answer to that.' The queen told her, her throat raw with emotions. 'but there is nothing to be done.'

'Now, that's not true.' The faerie said, pushing herself off the tree to stand in front of Matilda.

Ice filled the Queen's veins. She couldn't let herself hope. If she let herself hope, it would all be dragged away from her again.

She couldn't bear for it to be ripped away from her once more. She couldn't do it.

'Yes it is. Good day.' She said forcefully.

'Your majesty, please just let me explain.' The woman told her politely. The queen halted and took a deep breath.

'As you know, it is our purpose to guard the mortal realm. We see what is to come, and work to bring it about.' The faerie told her.

Matilda stuttered. 'I… I did not know that.'

The faerie only huffed. 'Dear me, what do they tell you in fairy stories these days?' She mumbled under her breath. She straightened her spine and tried again.

'Anyway, the point is, we are here to ensure that the future takes place. All of us work towards the common good, with our knowledge. And if you haven't noticed us, then we have done our job well.'

The queen considered this for a moment.

'So, what does any of this have to do with me wanting a child that will never come?' She asked, terrified of the answer.

'Because one will come.' The faerie said bluntly.

Matilda's heart stopped.

Her breathing stopped.

Her entire world stopped.

Had she just heard that correctly?

Was there hope?

Real, actual hope?

'So, I ask again, do you want a child?' The woman told her.

Matilda found herself nodding before she could actually work out what was going on.

'Good.' Was all the faerie said. Silver light began to pour out of her fingers, cascading to the floor slowly and wrapped around Matilda's legs.

Her breathing hitched. She had no clue what was going on. Had the faerie tricked her?

The silver light swirled up and up, higher and higher, until it consumed the Queen entirely. She stayed motionless throughout, not sure as to whether she should jump for joy or run in terror.

Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the silver light vanished, and Matilda returned to the river bank, the faerie still staring at her.

'It is done. Lay with your husband tonight, and it shall bear fruit.' The woman told her.

'Why did you help me?' The queen asked, still trying to keep her emotions under control.

'I told you, we guard what is yet to come. And this child, they have a destiny. Their vision for the world will come to pass, and a better world will replace this one. A world of justice and peace. That is why we help.'

The queen's mouth perked up at the corners. Her child.

Her child!

They would make the world a better place.

They had a future.

The happiness that had been building inside Matilda suddenly burst out and she laughed.

She laughed for the first time in a long, long time.

The faerie didn't have time to react before Matilda had closed the distance between the two of them, and thrown her arms around the unsuspecting woman.

'Oh, thank you; Thank you so much!' She cried.

The faerie only smiled a little, and patted her gently on the back.

Hope, she had hope once more. Matilda felt lighter than she had in a long time. She pulled back from the woman, still giggling, and began to walk, no run, back towards the castle.

The faerie watched her go, a small smile on her face. Her task was complete.

Matilda almost skipped down the hallway back to her chambers. Everyone was still at the midsummer celebration, so she ran into no one. Flinging her chamber doors wide open, she tugged on the rope in the corner of the room to summon a servant to her. Then, she opened the door to the nursery and stood staring at the empty cradle.

The cradle that would not remain empty for much longer.

She yanked the white cloth that covered it off, and let it fall to the ground. There would be no need for it soon.

Soon, a little prince or princess would lay there.

A little Prince Henry, or a little Princess Rose.

The servant arrived, and curtsied to her. The queen told her to fetch her husband from the celebration, for there was an urgent matter she needed to discuss with him. The servant girl looked a little confused by the Queen sudden change of manner, but said nothing, and instantly went to fulfil her Queen's demands.

Matilda walked out of the nursery and closed the door behind her, but did not lock it.

For it never needed to be locked again.

Footsteps sounded down the long tiled corridor. Fast footsteps, as if someone was running.

Matilda only had to wait a moment, before the door was flung open to reveal her husband, bright eyed and red faced. His lovely violet eyes stared at her in confusion. His royal eyes.

'Tilly, what's the matter. You said it was urgent.' He rasped out. It was obvious he had been running

She only smiled, and stepped towards him.

'It is urgent, but it's been a long time coming.' She told him, beaming as she closed the distance between them with a kiss. Her arms found their way around his shoulders, and his wrapped around her waist as he deepened the kiss.

Expertly, he stepped them both forwards, out of the way of the door, and using his right hand, slammed it shut behind them, making it very clear they were not to be disturbed.

* * *

The April morning was lovely and bright. The sun was high in the sky, but Matilda was not outside.

Instead, she was staring at a much more beautiful sight.

Inside the lovely wooden cradle that lay before her, a small sleeping baby girl kicked in her sleep. Her tiny little rosebud mouth scrunched and her nose crinkled adorably.

Matilda's child.

Her little Princess.

Princess Rose Matilda Valorian.

The beautiful tiny baby moved her arms up, still sleeping, but as if she was fighting something in her dreams. Just the smallest dusting of light blonde hair coated the top of her head. Although her eyes were firmly closed right then, Matilda had seen them when she had been born.

Deepest blue, almost violet.

Her husband's eyes.

The royal eyes.

She was a perfect mix of both of her parents. The Queen's hair and features, but her father's eyes and nose.

Matilda had not left her side since the moment she was born. Even now, two weeks after her birth, Matilda still spent every moment hovering over the now used crib, still not quite believing that her lovely little girl was here. It had all seemed a little like a dream.

First, meeting the faerie who had promised her.

Then, the realisation that she was actually with child.

The announcement to the court had been one of the most joyous moments of her life. It had been a long time coming, but Matilda finally felt that she had done her duty to her country, after failing them for so long. There were several noblemen who looked displeased at the news; mainly because they had their own claim to the throne, and an heir would place them further and further away from power.

The nights she had spent with her husband, both of them cradling the small bump that lay in her belly, getting gradually bigger each and every day.

Even when her pains had begun, she had not felt afraid. Her husband was there the entire time, much to the annoyance of the midwives. But he was the King, so they weren't going to order him to leave the room. Stefan had held her first, still unwashed and covered in who knows what. His face had been so full of love for the tiny little girl. He had placed her in Matilda's arms, and Matilda had thought her heart would break from too much love.

She really was a little angel. Ten perfect tiny fingers, and ten tiny toes. There was only one blemish on her skin, a small birthmark on her left shoulder, roughly in the shape of a star.

A faerie's mark.

Matilda had told her husband about the faerie, and he had promised to thank her if she ever crossed paths with her again, for bringing such joy into their lives.

But, staring at the little princess in the cradle, Matilda's heart was full.

She had done it. She had conceived and bore this child, not just for her, but for her entire country. There was an heir to the throne, no civil war was looming, no death. Matilda felt herself relax for the first time since she came to the throne.

The christening was a week away, and Matilda had begged her husband to invite some special guests, as well as the members of the court. A certain faerie. In fact, they had told her to invite the ruling council of fae. They felt that they owed it to them to see the child they had bestowed upon them.

Matilda's parents had not been invited. She had made that very clear, even though her mother had written to her; telling her how this was all the result of her advice, and that it was her mother's victory for the house. Matilda had ignored it, and thrown it in the flames. Her mother was never going to set eyes on her daughter if she could help it. And thankfully, she was the Queen, and had that power.

So, everything was set, ready for the first royal christening in almost thirty years.

Matilda looked back down to her sleeping daughter.

Everything had worked itself out, just like her husband had said.

Everything was good.

* * *

Pink flowers and ribbons decorated every surface, every available spare inch. Roses were positioned in every vase and sat on the long tables, filling the air with their lovely scent and sense of life.

All in honour of the little princess who lay in the crib at the front of the hall.

The christening had all gone smoothly. There was not one hitch. Rose didn't even cry when there was water poured on her head, the little angel.

But now, the celebration was in full swing, and courtiers lined the long tables, feasting and drinking.

One table in particular drew most people's attention.

Twelve faeries sat in one long row to the right hand side of the King and Queen.

The faerie who had met the queen all those months ago was sat the nearest to Matilda, along with the other members of the high council of fae. There were six females, and six males, all with bright golden eyes and long pointed ears. Most of them looked old, with their grey hair and lined faces. There was one male in particular who had a long grey beard that was knotted and braided in a strange fashion.

The council of fae ruled over all the faeries, and held closely guarded secrets from the mortal world. Only they knew what was to come, and how they came to know it was a mystery to everyone except them.

The courtiers looked a little weary at the prospect of the fae, but they wisely didn't say anything.

One by one, the courtiers made their way to the front of the hall, before the King, Queen, and young princess; paid their respects to them and presented their christening gift. Most of them were meant to display how much wealth and power the giver possessed, as opposed to an actual gift for the princess.

The amount of impractical jewelled rattles she was given was ridiculous. Matilda was on the verge of outright telling them that she was not going to accept any more idiotic gifts. But, she gritted her teeth and smiled politely.

Once all the courtier were done; the first of the faeries stood up.

It was a male, in a long flowing brown robe. He bowed to the King and Queen, before asking if he could approach the princess. The King nodded his consent, and the faerie ascended the steps.

'My gift to you, Princess, is the gift of beauty. May your loveliness be told through the ages.'

He waved his hand over her, and small ribbons of bronze coloured light fell from them, touching the baby's face gently. They swirled softly over her, and then disappeared.

Matilda stood frozen, but contented. At least the faerie's gifts were better than the courtier's

Everyone watched as one by one, the faeries made their way up to the cradle and gave the princess their gifts.

She was given beauty, grace, a kind nature, the ability to see someone's true heart, wisdom, courage, musical ability, and sweetness.

Matilda appreciated the gesture, but thought privately to herself that Rose would grow up with all of those things, regardless of the faerie's input.

Each faerie had their own unique colour of magic. She had seen that the faerie that had blessed her had surrounded her in silver magic. When the other faeries had given Rose her gifts, each of the ribbons of light they had dropped into her cradle were a different colour. There was bronze, lilac, white, yellow, turquoise, pale blue, violet; and that old male faerie with the strange knotted beard had golden magic.

There were only four faerie's left to go; the one who had blessed the Queen and three other female faerie's

Suddenly, the world went cold. Candles spluttered out and a horrid tremor filled the room.

Everyone froze. Even the fae.

A great shiver ran down Matilda's spine. Glancing to where the cradle lay, she stepped in front of it, in front of her daughter. She was not going to let anything happen to her, anything at all.

The doors flew open to reveal a woman in a flowing black gown.

Her golden eyes were bright as she strutted down the centre of the room.

All of the faeries instantly stood and made their way to stand in front of the royal family. None of the courtiers dared to move. Matilda felt her husband make his way to her side, and grasp her hand tightly.

The woman stopped before the other faeries who were all sneering at her.

'So, I see everyone else is here.' She said, in a cold, harsh voice.

'Leave.' Said one of the male faeries.

The woman snarled.

'Why should I? Have you forgotten that I am on this council too? The invitation clearly also included me.'

Matilda's veins filled with ice. She had only thought there were twelve faeries on the council. That was what the fae woman had told her.

'You know why you weren't invited. We all heard your suggestion.' The fae woman who had blessed Matilda spat at her. 'And it's appalling.'

'It would work, and you know it.' The intruder flung back.

'It's cruel, and misguided. Our task is to ensure the future, but that sort of spell would bring about more harm than necessary.' Said the fae traveling woman.

'It is completely necessary.' The intruder told her.

The tension in the air crackled. No one spoke. The council simply stared down the intruder.

'I was going to make this easy on you, but since you are so against me, you can save her yourself.' The intruder cackled.

With a flick of her wrist, a great gust of air swept through the hall, and pushed the faeries all to one side, making them fly off the ground and hit the far wall.

The black faerie began to step closer and closer to the Dias were the royal family stood.

Matilda screamed.

Pure and utter terror erupted from her lips. Stefan released her hand to grab the sword that lay at his side, but with yet another flick of her wrist, more wind barrelled toward the two of them.

It lifted the King and Queen clean into the air, and pushed them back, pinning them to the wall.

Matilda continued to scream. The courtiers all seemed to work out what was happening and fled in terror. Stefan thrashed against his bonds, unable move his arms. Tear, fresh and hot ran down the Queen's face.

Not her child. Please, no, not her child.

Her perfect little girl who she had waited so long for.

The black faerie walked calmly up to the cradle and peered down at the sleeping babe.

The queen still screamed, and the King began begging the faerie to spare their child. His own voice raw as he cried out to her.

'Oh, what a sweet little thing.' The black faerie crooned.

'Please, leave her. Please! Don't harm her.' Matilda cried.

The black faerie paid her no heed, and passed her hand over the top of the crib. Matilda's screaming began anew.

'My gift to you, princess, is a prophesy. On your eighteenth birthday, you will prick your finger on a spindle, and fall down dead.'

Matilda stopped hearing words.

This was not happening.

This couldn't be happening.

Not to her little baby girl.

Her tiny princess.

The faerie had promised, told her that her child would be a great ruler. Now, it was never to be.

Red ribbons of light flowed from her fingers, bright and cold, the colour of blood. It sank into the crib and Matilda found herself staring at the floor.

It was done.

Her child was cursed.

The black faerie turned around and walked quickly away from the cradle and back down the hall. She reached the doors at the end, and swiftly disappeared into smoke.

The magic bonds that had held them all in place where suddenly loosened, and all fourteen of them dropped to the floor.

Matilda's knees hit the floor and she crumpled. She was shaking everywhere, tears still pouring from her eyes.

Stefan instantly was up, and ran to the cradle, where he gently picked up his daughter in his arms, gently stroking her head, his tears splashing onto her lovely little face.

The queen still couldn't move. Her chest felt like it was caving in. Great sobs rose, as she screamed and cried.

A hand touched her shoulder gently, and she looked up to see the faerie woman who had given her Rose, smiling gently down at her.

'All is not lost.' She said quietly.

Matilda shook her head.

'She's going to die.' She managed to get out.

'No, she's not. I told you, we are here to ensure the future.' The faerie told her kindly. She extended her hand to the distraught Queen, and helped her stand.

As soon as she was standing, Matilda ran to her husband's side, to stare at Rose.

The princess was still fast asleep, and had no idea what had just happened.

'If you'll permit us, we can help.' The faerie woman told her.

'Haven't your kind done enough?' The King spat, still cradling his baby girl in his arms.

None of the faeries recoiled from the statement.

'Please, we understand that you are upset, but this might be the only way to help.' The fae woman said.

Both the King and Queen looked up.

'Can you break the curse?' The King asked hopefully.

All of the faeries shook their head in unison.

The small flicker of hope that had begun to grow inside Matilda's chest suddenly died. It left her empty and cold.

'Once a curse has been cast, no other faerie can break it. We can only modify it a little. The other option is to kill the faerie responsible for the curse.'

'Then we kill her.' The king said forcefully. 'We hunt her down, and kill her.'

'That's not going to happen.' One of the male faeries said. 'if we don't want to be found, we aren't found. There is no way you will be able to find her, unless she comes to you.'

Each one of these statements felt like a stab to Matilda's heart.

'But, I can change the curse, slightly.' The fae woman told them.

The King and Queen looked to each other. Matilda could barely see him through her tearful eyes.

'I just want her safe.' Matilda said, each word breaking her heart.

'There is one more thing. She will know when we change the curse. She will be able to feel it. Which means that chances are, she will come back to undo our changes. So, the only way to keep her safe is to hide her.' The fae woman said.

Matilda's heart shattered into thousands of pieces.

'You mean, hide her away from the palace?' She stuttered.

The fae woman nodded.

'Away from us?' Matilda gasped.

Again, she nodded.

'You're asking me to give her up?' Matilda cried.

The fae woman looked distraught, but still nodded.

'When we change it, she will come back here. The only way to keep her safe is to hide the princess somewhere far, far away, where she will never look. You cannot know either. She has great magic at her disposal, magic that could make you spill your darkest secrets. You cannot know where the princess is gone, or she will find out.'

Matilda thought her entire world was going to collapse around her. Her knees started shaking, and she gripped her husband tightly, using him to balance.

'But she will be safe?' The king asked. 'And she will not die?'

All of the faeries nodded.

Stefan turned to look at Matilda.

'We have to.' He said quietly. 'I want her here, as much as you. But she will live if she goes.'

More tears flowed out of Matilda's eyes, as her chest collapsed in on itself, and she sunk to her knees.

Her daughter, the child she had waited so long for, hoped for with all her heart, was being taken away from her.

'We have not given our gifts to the princess.' One of the female faeries said, pointing to another two faeries. 'Let our gift be our service. We will take her and raise her until she is eighteen. She will never know of the curse on her. If she cannot find the princess, maybe she will never prick her finger. We will return her to you once her eighteenth birthday is finished.'

Matilda couldn't hear the words. She tried to breath, tried to think, but she couldn't.

'Flora, Mary and Sybil will take her. Be assured, she will grow up happy and loved, and she will be safe.'

Matilda blinked, tears staining her cheeks.

'I will gift the princess her reprieve from the curse. She will only sleep when her finger is pricked. True loves kiss will awaken her.' The fae woman who had blessed Matilda said, 'And those three will raise her. She will be safe.'

Stefan looked down at his wife, his own tears falling from his face. Slowly, still with his daughter in his arms, he knelt by his wife's side.

'Tilly, we have to. She'll come back to us. We have to give her the best chance.'

Matilda sobbed, but lifted her face to look at the sleeping form of her daughter. She looked so peaceful, so perfect.

And all hers.

Her little girl.

Her daughter.

She was her mother.

And she couldn't be. She had to give her to someone else.

Although it broke her heart, the Queen nodded her head slowly.

'Please, just give us a moment, to say goodbye.' Stefan told the faeries.

All of them nodded, and left the room, closing the door firmly behind them.

Matilda turned to look at her daughter again. Stefan lifted his hands, and placed Rose in her mother's arms. Matilda held onto her tightly, kissing the top of her head, where her light coloured hair lay.

'I'm so sorry Rose. I'm so sorry I can't protect you.' She whispered.

The baby began to squirm in her arms, and she opened her eyes, blinking at the world. Matilda released a sob when she met her daughter's gaze. She could feel her husband at her side, sobbing.

'You're going away now, my love. And you won't remember me. But I will remember you. Every day.' The queen told her daughter.

'My baby girl.' Stefan whispered, stroking his daughter's head softly.

'When we see you next, you'll be all grown up. You'll be beautiful and strong and healthy. We are so proud of you.' Matilda said.

Placing one final kiss on her daughter's head, Matilda rocked the small girl in her arms.

'We love you Rose, so very much. We love you, I love you. And I hope one day you will forgive us.'

A great sob rose in the queen's chest, as she gently handed the small bundle back to her husband. Stefan looked lovingly down at the tiny baby, before standing on shaking knees, and walking towards the door.

Matilda simply knelt there, frozen. She watched as the King opened the door with one hand, and slowly passed the princess to the waiting faerie. He gave his daughter one last kiss, and whispered something Matilda could not hear.

The faerie who held their daughter curtsied and began to walk away, taking the princess with them. Stefan slowly closed the door.

The loud boom sounded as it shut into place, and Matilda knew that it was the sound of her heart being irreparably broken.

She fell forwards, gasping and sobbing. Her husband moved slowly to her side and took her into his arms, where their baby girl had been not moments before.

They both held each other, and sobbed as their child was lost to them.

Their little baby girl.

Their Rose.


	6. Scarlett

**Scarlett**

The birdsong floated around the chamber of the palace. The windows had been flung wide open to let in the air, in a vain attempt to cool down the long warm corridors in the midsummer heat. The curtains were tied back as far as they would go, light pouring in, almost painful to look at.

Little Scarlett Knox sat at her window seat, staring at the tiny bluebird perched on the windowsill, singing its tiny heart out.

But all she could hear was shouting.

The bird was shouting at her. It was looking for its baby. The nest was not where it had been that morning.

She was frantic.

Scarlett simply sat and stared at her.

She could understand it. She could understand the bird. Even though it wasn't speaking the same language that she knew, its chirrups and tweets made sense to her.

She small head tilted to the side, her cheek resting on her hand as she watched.

'There you are!' Came a familiar voice from behind her. Scarlett turn around to see her older sister stood in the doorway, leaning in the doorway. She was wearing her comfortable loose trousers and shirt as usual, something that annoyed their governess to no end. She said that young ladies wore dresses, not trousers. Their father didn't really encourage, or discourage it. He simply let it happen.

'The celebration will begin soon, We don't have much time left if we want to steal those cakes!' Bianca told her.

Scarlett instantly shot out of her seat. There was no way she was going to miss out on trying to smuggle the warm cakes out of the kitchen. But just before she got to the door, she turned back, the bluebird was still shouting.

'Why is the bluebird talking to me?' She asked, looking up into her sisters face.

Bianca's eyes went wide, as she looked from the window to her sister.

'Wait, you can understand her?' She said.

'Yes, her nest is missing. Can't you?' Scarlett asked innocently. It seemed very obvious what the bird was saying. Everyone could hear it.

Bianca quickly looked behind her, and noted there was no one there. Pushing Scarlett through the door, she closed it firmly behind her.

Bianca walked up to the bird on the windowsill and stared at it. Scarlett just looked at her sister, very confused.

'Where was your nest?' Bianca asked the bird. The fourteen-year old stared down the small bluebird.

Chirruping, the bird responded, hopping from one foot to the other.

Scarlett listened. The bird said something about being in the edge of the forest on the south west side of the palace.

Bianca sighed, and then pressed her lips together, leaving just a small gap, which she whistled out.

Nothing happened for a few moments, but then the sound of wings flapping filled the air.

A dozen other birds flew towards them, all different species and sizes. Scarlett watched in amazement as they all landed on the windowsill, and looked to Bianca.

'She's lost her nest. South west of here. Please find it.' Bianca told them all. The bird all displayed different signs they had heard her, and then all together, they flew off, in the direction of south west.

Bianca turned back around to face her little sister.

'You understood all of that?' She asked, a little weary of the answer.

Scarlett nodded.

'Have you heard them before?' Bianca asked.

'No, only today. She was screaming and shouting. She just wants her baby back.' Scarlett told her.

Bianca sighed, and rubbed her forehead.

Walking over to the small sofa that lay in the room, she almost fell onto it, and patted the space next to her. Scarlett ran over and jumped onto the soft sofa, her red hair flying behind her.

'Can we go and get those cakes now?' She asked eagerly. She really did like those cakes.

'Not right now.' Bianca said, her voice heavy. 'There's something I need to tell you about.'

Scarlett let her head tilt to one side in confusion. Bianca always loved sneaking cakes out of the kitchen. They had done it many times, and then sat in her room stuffing their faces. Why would she not want to get the cakes?

Bianca leaned forward slightly.

'I need to tell you a story. It was one mother told me when I was nine.'

'But I'm nine now!' Scarlett cried.

'I know, that's why I need to tell you it' Bianca said.

'It was just after you were born. I was only five, so I don't remember it. But at your christening, mother and father got a surprise visit.'

'Who?' Scarlett asked excitedly.

'It was a faerie. They came to see you. And me.'

Scarlett squealed a little bit. A faerie had come to see her. She had read all about faeries. They were in nearly every bedtime story she'd ever listened to.

'A faerie came to see me?' She asked, her eyes going wide. 'Did she have a magic wand, and wings, and jewels in her hair?'

'No, he didn't' Bianca told her with a small smirk.

'Men can't be faeries.' Scarlett said, sticking her tongue out at her sister.

'Oh, yes they can. They are just like humans, half of them are boys, half are girls.' Bianca told her, sticking her tongue out in retaliation.

'But men can't wear tiara's. Or have magical dresses.' Scarlett said, as she struggled to understand.

'Scar, you're being ridiculous. The fae have both men and women. Just trust me. The men just wear different clothes.'

'Oh.' Scarlett said, still a little confused.

'Anyway, he came to your christening because he had a very special gift to give me and you.' Bianca continued.

'Did he give me a faerie token? Like a jewel or a seashell?' Scarlett interrupted. 'Something magical that we can go on adventures with.'

Bianca laughed at her sister's imagination.

'No, he didn't. We'll have to find our own source of adventures.'

Scarlett scowled.

'But, he passed his hand over us, and gave us some of his magic. Mother said it was a sort of white light that came out of his fingers, like ribbons.'

'Ooohhh' Scarlett sighed, entranced.

'He gave both of us the ability to talk to animals. They understand what we say, and we can understand them. No one else in the whole world can do what we can do.'

Scarlett looked down at her hands, turning them over slowly.

She was magic. She had magic inside her.

'So, why couldn't I hear them before? It was only this morning.' Scarlett asked, not tearing her gaze away from her magical hands. She wished really hard that she could make her skin glow or something, something to show that magic was inside her.

'Scar?' Bianca asked, shaking her shoulder lightly. Scarlett looked up confused.

'We're not that magic. We can only speak to animals. No shapeshifting or glowing or flying or becoming invisible.'

Scarlett's heart sunk.

'I want to fly. Can't I swap the magic? You can talk to animals; I'll fly'

Bianca chuckled a little.

'It's not how that works, sorry.'

Scarlett stuck out her bottom lip, pouting.

'It happened this morning, because you needed to grow up a little bit first. I only started to understand them when I turned nine. Can you imagine if you could hear them when you were a baby? You would have learned to speak in tweets and chirrups, instead of our language. You would have looked very strange.'

'So, I'm all grown up now?' Scarlett asked. 'Does this mean I have to be a lady and go to all those boring parties?'

Bianca shook her head.

'No, you're not a lady, not just yet. But the magic thinks your big enough to understand. You won't be a lady for quite a few years yet. I've only just become a lady, and you're five years younger.'

'But I don't want to be a lady. It's boring and you have to pretend to be interested to be polite.' Scarlett told her. 'But I wouldn't mind stopping all of my history lessons. They are very dull.'

'I know they are.' Bianca told her. 'Did Miss Appleby get to the great war with Hortensia yet? That is really very boring.'

Scarlett nodded.

'Just a few more years of it, then you never have to sit through another of her history lessons ever again.'

Scarlett scowled. A few years was far too long to wait.

'Scar, you have to keep this a secret, the animal thing. No one else can ever know.' Bianca told her sister solemnly.

Scarlett was very confused. Why should she have to keep her magic powers a secret. She could impress all the servants with how she could speak to them. She could put on little shows for them.

'Why?' Scarlett asked.

'Because, we are the only two people in the world who can talk to them. If other people knew, they could try and steal us to use our magic. And you don't want that, do you?'

The nine-year old's bottom lip began to tremble. She didn't want to leave the palace. Or her sister, or her father. Her mother had died years ago, and she couldn't remember her very well. But she didn't want to be stolen. She wouldn't be able to have nice warm cakes with Bianca if she was stolen.

'I don't want you to be taken away, so you have to keep it a secret. You cannot tell anyone else. Other than Father and me. We are the only ones who know, just us three. We'll be safe if it just stays between us three, alright?' Bianca told her.

Scarlett nodded a little. She could be a big girl; she could keep it a secret.

A bird suddenly appeared at the window, shouting for joy, as they had found the little nest that had been missing.

Scarlett beamed and ran over to the window.

'So, the baby bird is safe?' She asked.

The bird responded that it was, and having a big hug with its mother.

Scarlett giggled, and patted the head of the small bird. Bianca appeared at her side.

'Now, something you have to learn. Birds are very good at repeating messages. If you ask them nicely to deliver a message, they will do it.'

Scarlett gasped.

'Like a flying letter?' She asked.

'Sort of.' Bianca told her. 'Now, if you wait here, give it a few crumbs. I'm going to run to my chamber. Ask it nicely to find me, and give it a message to tell me. If you do it right, I'll send one back.'

Scarlett nodded, and ran to the small table in the corner of the room which had a few leftover crumbs of bread. Bianca left the room, but closed the door behind her.

Brushing the crumbs into her hand, Scarlett walked carefully over to the bird who still stood on the windowsill.

'There you are Mr Bird.' She said softly.

The bird started chirping at her, telling her how she was a female bird.

'Oh, I'm sorry. Lady Bird.' She told her, spreading the crumbs out on the sill. The bird appeared to have forgiven her at the sight of food, and began to peck at the small pieces of bread.

The bird lifted her head, and swallowed the small crumbs.

Scarlett gently stroked the soft feathers on the top of her head.

'Please, Lady bird, will you give a message to my sister?' Scarlett asked.

The bird tilted its head to one side, and then tweeted a 'Yes.'

'Tell Bianca, 'Can we go and get the cakes now?' Can you do that for me?'

The bird began to sing 'Can we go and get the cakes now?'

Scarlett giggled in delight as the bird flew off the windowsill and out of sight.

She climbed off the window seat, and went grab her cup of water.

' _I still wish I could fly_.' She thought ' _I'd rather be able to fly.'_

Only moments later, did the same bird return to the window, singing its little heart out.

'Open the door.' She sang.

Scarlett set down her water, and ran over to the door, flinging them open.

There, stood Bianca, smiling.

'Well done, my little magic sister.' She said. 'Now, come on, those cakes will be getting cold!'

Scarlett giggled and followed her big sister towards the kitchen, where the most wonderful smell of cakes drifted through the air.

* * *

AN- Just wanted to say a quick thank you to those two lovely people who left some of the nicest reviews I have ever seen on AHE this week. You have no idea how much you have put a smile on my face!

Thanks again to I.J for being my beta, and putting up with my unending messages.

Review?


	7. James

**James**

 **Eleven years ago.**

The carriage rattled along the road, jostling at every bump and ditch they rode over. James sat with his head in his hand, leaning against the window frame, watching as the world passed him by in a blanket of green. His father sat opposite him, paying more attention to the book he had in his hand than his son.

It had always been like that. James hadn't used to mind it much. He'd only started to get annoyed at it when his mother had passed, almost a year ago. He thought his father would step up, and try to be there for him.

But, no. His father had remained stubbornly closed off and aloof, as he always had been.

However, James was not going to let his Father ruin his day. He had been looking forward to today for a good long while.

The day he finally went to school.

He was to attend Ashburne School, the same as his father, and his father before that. He would be just one of the Thorne's to grace its ancient halls. But really, James just wanted to be away from home.

He had been stuck there, especially for the past year. Ever since his mother had died, there had been nothing to do. He'd had a tutor, which he didn't particularly like, but other than that, there was no one he could talk to, could play with. He'd been an only child, so he had no siblings.

Only his father, and he didn't seem to care what James did, so long as he stayed out of his way.

But today, finally, he was going to school. To meet other young boys his age. He would be sleeping in the same dormitory as them, eating in the large dining hall, and playing sports outside on the green. James had never looked forward to a day more in his life.

He was only twelve, but today, he felt like a man.

The forest around them seemed to go on and on for miles, never ending. He knew that his father had told him that the school was quite a way away, but James was anxious to get there. He didn't want to have to endure another moment of his father's company than he absolutely had to.

James had learned all the basics from his tutor. He knew enough literature to get by and he was quite skilled at science. Philosophy he always had struggled at, but he excelled in maths. He knew already how to balance the books for his household, his tutor letting him sneak a peek at them on occasion. But the one thing he wanted more than anything else, was simply a friend.

He hadn't really ever had a friend before. His father had refused to let anyone of lower rank than himself into the house, unless they were servants. He only wanted his son mixing with Lords and Dukes, not commoners. As a result, James had been fairly isolated his entire life. His mother had played with him, and so had his tutor. But he had never had anyone his own age to really interact with. He'd briefly become friends with a boy from the village who had accidentally wandered too far up the path, but his father had put an abrupt stop to that only hours their acquaintance.

No, James was both excited and terrified at the notion of meeting other boys who he had to become friends with. His father had told him on no uncertain terms that it would be in his best interest, and the family's best interest, if he mixed with boys who were one day going to become Sirs, and Lords, and Dukes. There were no royal children, so he couldn't climb quite that far, but the thought had crossed his father's mind, however briefly.

So James sat, several hours into the long carriage ride, just staring out of the window, dreaming of what school would be like.

'Is it clear what you have to do?' His father asked, breaking the long silence that had descended over the carriage.

'Yes, father.' James replied, in a sulky tone. If his father had ever bothered to spend time with him, he would have known that his tone of voice was one of defiance and rudeness. But his father didn't seem to notice.

'When we get there, I'm going to speak to the headmaster. You need to introduce yourself to the other boys. Look for the ones in the fanciest clothes first, they're probably the higher born ones. You need to make them like you. Don't be smart with them. You're climbing your way up so you need to be as pleasant and deferential as possible. They are your social superiors, so they will be the leaders of the group. Don't get ahead of yourself!' His father told him.

James continued to look out of the window and nod. He had already been told this many time before they even got into the carriage.

The silence fell over the carriage again, and the two of them went the rest of the journey without speaking.

Eventually, the trees began to thin out, and a large building rose before them.

Ashburne school.

The entire thing was made of dark brown bricks, with a slanting slate roof. A massive rectangular shaped hall stood proudly in the centre, with two floors. A library on the bottom floor that could just be seen through the large windows, and the dining hall above it. The building stretched around both sides of the hall in a sort of angular U shape, with three floors of window; the dormitories and classrooms. There was a large green in front of the dormitories, large enough to play sports on, but his father had already told him that there was a bigger field behind the building where sports were played, where there was less danger of the boys breaking a window.

Several other carriages were already pulled up to the front door, and there were quite a few other boys around James's age stood outside, bidding their parents farewell, and greeting each other.

The school provided education up until the age of eighteen, but today there were only the first years. They moved in a week before everyone else, so they would have time to get used to being away from home and find their way around.

James's father gave him a short nod, and then opened the carriage door and instantly made for the building, determined to find the headmaster.

James remained sitting, a little nervous. But he knew he had to go. There were other boys his age, he could make a friend. But there was one thing he was determined to do.

Completely ignore his father's command.

All his life, his father had kept him isolated, told him what to do. Now, James was no longer at home, so he was going to make his own decisions, purely to annoy his father. He didn't want to have to talk to the proud and pompous sons of the highest rank of nobility, he didn't want to have to stand there and just say yes to whatever they said.

No, he wanted to be the leader of his own group. He wanted to choose his own friends, boys he liked instead of boys who had the highest status. He knew his father would kill him if he knew, but he was leaving him here, unsupervised. His father wouldn't know until it was too late, and by then the damage would be done.

After being locked away for so long, James wanted to shine.

And shine he would.

He took a deep breath and hopped out of the carriage. There were several sets of parents talking quietly to their sons, mothers kissing them on the head and telling them to be good. James walked right past them all. There were certainly some families who looked more well off than others, some mothers were almost dripping with jewels.

James made his way onto the large lawn of grass that sat in front of the dormitories.

Sat on the bench, on the far side, was a small boy. He was too far away for James to make out clearly, but he had his head down, his dark brown hair clearly visible.

James felt bad for the boy. His parents were nowhere to be found, and he looked upset. Not at all like James, who couldn't wait to get away from his home.

And so, James walked over to the boy slowly, nervous anticipation rising in his chest.

The boy got closer and closer, until James could see his clothes and face. His clothes looked well made, but not overly fancy, like James's. He had large blue eyes, which looked a little red rimmed, as if he had just been crying.

'Are you alright?' James asked cautiously. The small boy's head whipped up to look at him, sniffing a little and rubbing his eyes.

'Yes, I'm fine.' He said. 'I got some dust in my eye.'

'Really?' James asked, not believing a word.

The boy nodded.

James reached into his pocket, and pulled out the small paper bag he had hidden there. He hadn't dared pull it out in front of his father. The cook had sneaked them to him for the journey.

'Sweet?' James asked, offering the open paper bag to the boy.

The boy's face perked up considerably when he saw them.

'Where did you get those?' He asked.

'Smuggled them from home. Don't tell my father.' James said with a smile.

'They won't let you keep them. We're not supposed to have sweets here.' The boy told him.

'Well, I won't tell if you won't.' James said, extending the bag.

The boy smiled and reached in to grab a handful.

'I'm James, by the way, James Thorne,' He told the small boy.

'Christopher.' They boy offered.

'So, why are you out here all by yourself?' James asked.

'My parents left, about half an hour ago. I don't know anyone else.' Christopher told him.

James considered this for a moment.

'Well, now you know me.' He said, rather shyly.

'Yes, the guy who secretly smuggles sweets.' Christopher said.

James only looked half offended.

'Excuse me, but I am the best sweet smuggler here!' He said, with a large smile on his face.

Christopher gave him a small sideways smile.

'I'm sorry, the best sweet smuggler.' He said.

'Thank you!' James told him, taking the seat next to him on the bench.

They both sat in silence for a little while, neither of them really sure what to say next.

'So, where are you from?' James asked.

'Howards county.' Christopher told him, looking down to the ground.

'Where about? That's not far from my house. Thorne manor, near Arton.'

Christopher mumbled something that James could not make out.

'I didn't quite catch that.' James said.

Christopher mumbled something again, but still it was inaudible to James.

'Pardon?' He asked.

'The duke's palace.' Christopher finally said.

James took a deep breath, and averted his gaze, cursing himself internally.

Of course. The one and only time he had ever been given freedom and he had worked up the courage to disobey his father's command, and he instantly managed to find one of the highest born students at the school. Why did he ever think he could find a way to stand out and do his own thing.

'So, your father is Duke Howards?' James asked for clarification.

Christopher nodded slowly, not looking up from the floor.

'But please don't tell everyone. I don't want the other boys to want to only know me because of my father. I want to be Christopher, not Lord Howards.'

James's head snapped up when he heard that.

This boy was just like him, wanted this school to be a new start. One where their father's didn't dictate their entire lives.

'I don't want people bowing and saying 'yes sir.' Do everything I say just because I will be a Duke one day. I want to be normal.' Christopher said.

'Me too.' James told him.

Christopher looked up to him, his blue eyes wide.

'My father wants me to be a great man of the world. And only interact with the highest of the high. Hence, I'm here.' James told him. 'I don't want to have to trail behind all the spoiled boys.'

Christopher looked down. 'Oh.' Was all he said.

James realised what he had just said, and placed his hand gently on the small boy's shoulder.

'Sorry, I didn't mean that. You know the boys, the ones who always look like they've just swallowed sour milk.' He joked.

'I do.' Christopher said. 'There was a boy getting dropped off about an hour ago who had that exact look. I think he said his name was Adam.'

'Well, I'll be sure to avoid him.' James said. 'But, you're not pompous, or pig headed. So maybe, we could be friends.'

'As long as you bring me more sweets, I'll do anything you ask.' Christopher told him, smiling.

Suddenly, a movement out of the corner of James's eye caught his attention. His gaze lifted to see his father stood there, with a proud expression on his face.

'Father.' James said, without any joy in the word.

'And who is this young man?' His father asked, gesturing to Christopher.

A very large and smug smile spread over James's face.

'This is Christopher Howards, son of Duke Howards.' James said proudly.

His father beamed, cruel and viciously.

'Good. You've already met your new roommate then.' He said. 'I talked to the headmaster, and it turns out you two are sharing a room with two other boys.'

Christopher's face lit up.

'Really?' He asked excitedly.

James's father nodded.

'Yes, you two, another heir to a knighthood, and another Duke's son. I'm thrilled.'

'Of course you are.' James muttered under his breath.

Christopher's gaze seemed to flutter between the father and son, as if trying to work out who to address next.

'I know where our room is, if you'd like me to show you.' Christopher told James.

James instantly stood from the bench, nodding, and Christopher hurried on ahead of them.

James was about to follow when he felt his father's hand close around the top of his arm.

'Don't mess this up. You need to keep that boy liking you. Make the other duke's son like you too, I don't care about the other boy.' His father snarled in his ear.

James gritted his teeth, but did not respond to the order.

'Do you hear me?' His father asked.

'I hear you.' James snapped, trying to drag his arm out of his father's grasp.

'Then, you will do as I say.'

James swallowed. His courage was rising up, from somewhere far within him. It was practically clawing at this throat, begging to be released.

'I will be friends with Christopher, but because he is nice. Not for his title. You will not be here to order me about, so I will not listen to you.' James forcefully told his father.

The shock of what his son had just said to him hit his father like a blow. The hand he had grasped around James's arm slackened just enough for James to break free.

'This is my life now, and I will do with it as I please. Go home, and leave me be.' James told his father, watching the colour drain from his face. Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and followed Christopher into the main building, leaving his father staring after him in pure shock.

And James had never felt more free in his entire life.


	8. Rose

**Spoilers for Chapter 6 of AHE- I'd advise reading that before this.**

 **Rose**

 **Ten minutes after Marion and Blanche leave.**

The light was just about shining through the curtained windows as Rose climbed back into bed. The bed sheets were cold against her skin as she wrapped them around herself.

They were gone, just like they said they would go.

And part of her wanted them to stay, particularly that new one.

The one with all the stories.

Marion, her name was Marion.

Rose's mind was still trying to sort through all the things she had told her about. People who lived in villages and towns, near other people. They could buy and sell things in a market place, could knock on other people's doors, see other people outside the house they lived in.

Rose had never had any of that. Ever.

All of her life, she had lived within these four walls, in the middle of the forest. There had been travellers, people who had accidentally wandered too far off the path. But no one like Blanche and Marion before. Her Aunt's usually saw to it that no one stayed too long.

They were afraid of the world, that's what Rose thought. That's why they lived here, isolated and away from everyone.

But, Marion made it sound so wonderful.

There were celebrations, and dances, and weddings, and feasts. Times were people gathered together to enjoy themselves.

Rose hadn't had an unjoyful childhood. And certainly when it came to her birthday, her aunt's made sure to get her presents and cakes and sing to her. But she had never been to such a gathering of people. And she desperately longed to go.

Before, she had been blissfully ignorant. She had only had what her aunt's told her about the outside world to go along with. But now, she knew more, and wanted to see more.

She wasn't a complete idiot; she did know some things. She had been taught how to read and write, on pieces of paper that were then promptly burnt. She had read literature and basic numbers. But the most unusual thing of all is that she had been taught about the law of the land, how it works and how to judge people fairly and wisely. She had always just thought it had been a bit of fun on her aunts' behalf, something to break up the literature and maths lessons. They had posed potential situations, and asked her to act like the Queen, giving out rewards and punishments to the innocent and guilty parties. Rose actually had enjoyed those lessons, they were different; interesting. But that was all they were, a little bit of fun. Nothing serious.

Rose turned over in her bed, away from the light of the new day that was shining far too brightly for her tastes. She looked away, and closed her eyes, and waited for sleep to wash over her.

Later that day, Rose was tending to the orchard, a little way away from the cottage. It was about as far away as her aunts would let her go. Ever since she had pointed out it was to be her birthday soon, they had been terrified. Rose had no idea why. She had mentioned the subject about a month ago, lazily bringing up the subject that her childhood was almost over, and she would be eighteen in a month. All three of her aunts had flinched when she had said this, and instantly began to whisper amongst themselves.

They had left the room, leaving Rose to sit sowing by the fire. She hadn't minded, they did it a lot. But when they had come back downstairs, they had told her in no uncertain terms that things were going to have to change, just for a little while. She had to understand that it was for her own good, and that she had to trust them.

Rose had agreed to it, of course, she trusted her Aunts. They were the only family she had ever known. She had never met her parents, and wasn't entirely sure what had happened to them. From what she could gather, they either were dead, or had given her up. If the first, Rose wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know, it would just upset her. And if the second…. She didn't even want to think about it. She didn't really think much about her parents.

So, there she was. Within a safe distance from the house, just tending to the trees. They didn't need much doing to them. Most of the apples weren't ripe enough to pick yet, but the trees had some overgrown branches and could do with a little trimming.

She had a sharp knife in her hand, and she was sawing away at the low lying branches that were shielding the apples away from the sunlight. Humming as she worked, she ignored the aching in her muscles, and her tiredness. She didn't sleep very well the night before, thinking about the two girls in the basement. How they had gotten here, how different they were from her, and yet the same.

Both were roughly her age, maybe a little older. All her life she'd only ever known her aunts, who hadn't aged much all her life. She had grown larger day by day, but they never seemed to change. But those two girls were like her, growing up together. Although she knew her aunts would hate it, she desperately wanted to see them again.

Her arm moved continuously back and forth, trying to get this branch to cut. Her cheeks were tinged pink by the exercise and her hand began to sweat with the effort. It was after all a lovely April day. She was so preoccupied with her task, that she didn't hear the set of footsteps creeping ever closer to her.

'Excuse me?' A voice sounded.

Rose whirled around, knife still in hand, startled at the voice.

A man stood not ten feet away. As soon as he noticed the knife she held in her hand, he threw his arms up suddenly.

'Oh, sorry.' He cried and took several steps back, almost tripping over himself.

Rose simply stood and stared.

The man was young, just a little older than herself. His light brown hair fell a little over his broad forehead, grazing the top of his eyes, brushing his eyelashes. He had arching cheekbones and a soft face.

However, Rose did not lower her knife. Her eyes dare drift lower, down to his torso. His tunic was very neat, brown leather with a little decoration. A long dark brown cloak, almost black, covered his shoulders and fell behind him.

'Can you put the knife down?' He asked cautiously. 'I mean you no harm.'

Rose didn't move a muscle. Her arm was still raised before her, knife clutched tightly in her fist.

'I swear, please. Just lower the knife.' He asked again, taking a step backward.

Rose considered it for a moment. The young man looked harmless enough, and he looked scared. Scared of… her.

She considered it for a moment. His terror was genuine. She could feel it.

It was a strange thing, but she'd always been able to tell. It was a sort of gift she had. She could always tell if what they were showing on their faces was the truth. Something she'd be born with. And she could tell the young man in front of her really was scared, and was telling the truth about meaning her no harm.

Slowly, very slowly, she began to lower her arm.

The young man's features began to relax, and he stood up straight.

'Thank you.' He said, releasing a long breath.

'Who are you?' She asked him, tilting her head to one side a little.

The man took a tentative step forward

'Philip. I'm Philip.' He told her, with a small smile. 'May I know your name?'

Rose tucked the knife into the belt of the dress she was wearing.

'Rose.' She said.

'Rose.' He repeated, as if testing it on his tongue. 'I like that.'

'Why are you here?' She asked him, not shifting her gaze from him.

He laughed a little, and took another step forward.

'I'm riding through, on my way home. My horse is down the path at that lake, he needed watering. But I heard singing so I came up here to investigate. And here you are.' He told her.

'I wasn't singing.' She said, refusing to take her stare of him. 'I was humming.'

'It's roughly the same thing, isn't it?' He replied, the corners of his mouth tilting up a little.

Rose didn't reply. She wasn't sure whether to agree or contradict him. So, she simply stood there, staring.

A young man. She had never met one before. And certainly never met one by herself. Her aunts had always been there.

'Do you live here?' The man asked, gesturing around.

Rose only nodded slowly, not being any more specific. Her aunts didn't like people to know they were here; they had made sure Marion and Blanche wouldn't tell anyone. She highly doubted that they would approve if she told this man as well.

'All the way out here?' He questioned, taking another small step towards her.

'Yes.' She breathed out. Maybe she needed to go and find Flora. She would know what to say to him. Flora was talkative, she always knew the right thing to say. Rose didn't.

'I suppose, each to their own.' Philip muttered.

Rose studied him for a little while longer, her heart racing with each passing second. She wasn't entirely sure if it was from nerves of talking to someone new, or speaking to someone without her aunt's permission. Her throat went dry, and her breathing began shallow.

'You've had a long journey?' She said, not entirely as a question.

Philip shook his head a little.

'No, not too long. A few hours so far, and a few more to go. I was visiting an old school friend of mine.' He said, raising his eyes to meet her gaze.

'School friend?' She asked.

Philip nodded.

'You went to school?' She asked him.

'Yes, Ashburne school. When I was a boy.' He told her.

'Marion never mentioned schools.' Rose said, more to herself than to Philip.

He simply stood there in confusion.

'What are schools like?' She asked, tilting her head a bit to the side. Unfortunately, the angle of her head caused some locks of her hair to spill across her eyes, momentarily shielding her vision. She batted it back, and tucked it behind her ears. Philip only chuckled a little.

'What do you mean what are schools like?' He said, laughing.

'I don't know. I never went. Tell me.' She demanded.

Philip looked a little startled at her insistence, but shrugged his shoulders at the command. Noting a log sat in the ground next to him, he perched himself comfortably on the top, and patted the space next to him. Rose had no idea what he meant.

'Do you want to sit?' He asked.

'Why?'

'I don't know. It's just polite to ask.' He told her.

Rose considered this for a moment. Her aunt's would definitely not approve of her speaking with a stranger, but if it was the polite thing to do, then she could see no real harm. So, she strode up to the log, and graciously lowered herself down to sit.

Philip turned to her.

'So, I went to school at eleven. It's this really large building with halls and bedrooms and classrooms. You know what a building is, right?'

Rose nodded, listening aptly.

'Anyway….' Philip continued. He talked and talked about his school. His three friends he shared a room with, James, Christopher and Antony. The mathematics and languages lessons he was subjected to. The names they used to call the old and grumpy teachers. Rose listened to it all, soaking up all the stories he told her. When he was quite done, he took a long breath.

'You don't like to talk very much, do you?' He said.

'I just don't have much to say.' She said, looking away from him, in the vague direction of the cottage.

It was true, she had never been to school, or really been outside the cottage. She had no stories to tell, no experiences to relive, no adventures to retell. It had never bothered her before, but something now tugged on her heartstrings.

She simply had lived, existed, for the past eighteen years of her life. She had never questioned it, not for one second. Not until Marion and Philip had told her about what lay beyond the forest. Now, she longed to see what was outside, in the world of people. Where she could talk, and make friends and do things.

'That can't be true. Everyone has something to say. Some tale to tell.' He told her.

'I don't.' She told him, still staring off into the distance.

'Well, I'm not going to believe that for a second.' He said, straightening up. 'Tell me about something that isn't real then.'

Her head snapped to look at him.

'If you have nothing in your life to talk about, tell about something other than your life. What about your dreams?' He asked.

Rose considered this for a moment.

'My dreams…' She mumbled. 'I've had the same one for as long as I can remember.'

Philip sat listening, watching every small movement she made.

'Light, always light. But different colours. I suppose like a rainbow. They are warm and caring, and they float around me.' She began. Philip didn't move.

'But there's always the red one, harsh and angry. It wants to hurt me. But it is pushed away by silver. It's always the silver one last. Silver is calm, and soft.'

Rose lifted her gaze to look directly at Philip. She wasn't entire sure he was breathing.

'Always the same, the colours. They dance around me.' She said.

Philip's forehead crinkled a little.

'That's…quite some dream….' He admitted, his voice was raspy and confused.

'Is that not a usual dream?' She asked. Her aunts had told her that it was probably nothing, and she shouldn't think too deeply about it.

'Well, my dreams certainly aren't like that. But I wish they were.' He told her, with a small smile.

'Maybe it will finally disappear next week.' She muttered, more to herself than to Philip. Her aunts were scared of something, something that might happen once she turned eighteen; maybe this was it. Her dreams would stop.

'Why next week?' Philip asked gently.

'It's my birthday. My childhood will be over.' She told him.

'Huh' Philip huffed. 'Same day as that princess, the one who died all those years ago.'

Rose didn't know anything about this princess of which he spoke, and wasn't really interested to find out, so she said nothing.

'Are you celebrating?' He asked.

'Celebrating, what?'

'Your birthday, of course. You should be, especially if it's a big one.'

'I don't know.' She told him, looking down to the ground. Her aunts had told her she was not to leave the house at all on her birthday. Did that count as celebrating?

She saw Philip give her a small smile out of the corner of her eye, and he softly placed his hand over her own.

'I'll celebrate it with you. You shouldn't be alone on your birthday.'

A rush of blood flooded Rose's cheeks as she looked at their joined hands. It felt strange, but nice and comforting. She liked it.

'I won't be alone. My aunts will be there.' She told him, unable to tear her gaze away from their hands.

'Still, I'll come.' He told her, giving her a gentle nudge with his shoulder. 'I'm not one to miss out on a celebration.'

'I'm not sure they will welcome you.' She said.

'Well, I'm not coming to see them, I'm coming to see you.' He told her.

Something jolted through her heart. No one had ever wanted to come and see her before. Even the girls they had sheltered for the night had only come because they were in danger. No one had ever wanted to see Rose. She smiled at Philip, finally lifting her gaze to his face. He was smiling too. It was a kind expression, one full of gentleness and maybe a little bit of awe.

Rose thought about the young man in front of her. He was kind and caring, she could tell. Her gifts, or whatever they were, told her that much. He had made her smile, and listened to her. She was at a loss for words to describe exactly what she was feeling. Never before had she had so many thoughts flying through her head at once, it was almost too much to bear. But all those thoughts were centred around how pleasant the man before her was. And she found she liked the feeling he inspired in her.

A loud horse whinny interrupted her thoughts, and Philip's head snapped around to face the source of the noise.

'I think my horse is getting impatient. I should probably go, still several more hours of riding to go before I get home.' He said. He lifted his hand off hers, and she instantly felt the cold air wrap around it, chilling her. She had liked him holding her hand.

Philip stood slowly.

'It was very nice to meet you Rose. I hope our paths cross again.' He told her.

She remained sitting, but nodded in agreement; she also desperately wished their paths would cross again. She wanted to see him again.

He gave her a small bow, and a smile. Then he began to walk past the log she was sat on, in the direction of the horse sound.

Rose found herself standing and shouting before she even realised what she was doing.

'Wait.' She cried. He stopped, and turned around to face her slowly.

'You have to see me again.' She told him. 'Please.'

She wanted to see him, she wanted to hear more stories of the world. Now that she had been introduced, she longed to hear more about other people. Her curiosity was not yet sated. And especially, she wanted to see him. There was something about him, something she hadn't been able to place. Something that made her heart race and her cheeks colour. But she liked how she felt, and wanted him to come back.

Philip's grin only spread wider and wider.

'I will come and see you again. I'd like that very much.' He told her.

She beamed at him, already anxiously waiting for the next time he would be before her.

'Soon?' She asked, in an excited tone.

'As soon as I possibly can.' He told her.

They both stood there, just silently beaming at each other. As if neither of them wanted to break the spell that they were both under.

Another horse whinny had Philip's smile dropping.

'I'm sorry, I must go. Until next time, Rose.' He told her.

'Goodbye, Philip.' She said. The word tasted foreign on her tongue. Strange but not exactly unpleasant.

She gave him a small curtsey, and he reciprocated with a bow. Then, he turned around, and reluctantly dragged himself back to his horse, leaving Rose to stare back after him.

Too many thoughts, too many feelings. She had no idea what was going on; it confused her. But she found that she liked being confused like that. It wasn't bad, just different. In fact, it was nice.

Before too long, he disappeared from sight, and Rose simply stood trying to make sense of her first interaction with a young man. And she found herself completely unable to keep the large smile off her face.

A young man, she had just spoken with a young man.

Philip.

Philip.

'Rose, where are you?' Came a voice from behind her. Sybil was calling for her.

Rose turned quickly and made her way back towards the cottage.

Sybil came into view, her hands held around her mouth as she shouted for Rose. She stopped the moment she noticed her walking towards her.

'Oh, there you are dear.' Her aunt said. 'Come on in. There's tea ready, and we need to talk to you.'

Rose just nodded, and followed her aunt inside. The brightness of the day faded as they entered the room. Rose was surprised to see both of her other aunts sat in their chair's by the fire. Flora stood as Rose walked in, but Mary remained sitting, a large wooden box resting on her knee.

'What is it?' Rose asked innocently. She had no idea what was going on.

'Rose, my dear. I think it's best you take a seat.' Flora said, gesturing to the empty seat in front of her. Rose sat in it, folding her hands in her lap, like they had always taught her to do.

Sybil took her usual seat, and Flora sat back down. The three of them exchanged uneasy glances between them, and Flora took a large deep breath.

'Now, Rose. You are almost eighteen. You will no longer be a child soon. But we thought it best that you know exactly how your childhood started, before you leave it behind.'

Rose was confused by this sentence. Her brow furrowed as she tried to understand what they were telling her.

'We are going to tell you a story. A story about your Mother and Father. Your story.' Flora told her.

Flora's gaze flittered to the fine wooden box Mary kept on her knee.

'It's time you knew the truth.'


	9. Jaqueline

**Jaqueline**

Panic filled her as she ran down the corridor. She only had to hope that she wasn't too late. She had tossed and turned all night, knowing what she had to do, but terrified to do it all the same.

The corridors of the Duke's palace seemed to go on and on forever as Jaqueline ran, her long dress flying behind her.

She had to get there, she just had to speak to her.

She could do this. Her courage would not fail her this time.

Jaqueline had put this off for far too long. But she had to do something, and time was running out.

At last, the door she had been heading towards came into view.

She paused for a minute and stared at the door.

She had to do this. She could do this.

The butterflies in her stomach flew around and around and around. Ice flowed through her veins.

She really didn't want to have to do this, but she knew that she had to.

No more would she stand on the side and let this happen. She could do something about it.

And with that resolve, she took a step towards the door.

And another.

And another.

Her heart was beating so loudly she was sure that it was going to explode from her chest at any moment.

The large door stood directly in front of her now, there was no turning back once she went through.

Her hand almost shook as she reached for the handle and pushed the door open.

The room before her came into view, and she had to swallow hard to try and calm herself.

She could do this; she could do this.

'Oh, Jaqueline!' Came a high voice from across the room.

Ella sat on a large armchair, her feet up on a small footstool before her. Her long golden hair fell down her back, and her long flowing dress did nothing to hide the very large bump in her belly.

Christopher was sat at the desk nearby, hunched over some letter and notes, but he looked up when he heard his wife speak.

He did it all the time, always attentive and always caring, especially now that they were expecting their first child together. He doted on her constantly and hung upon her every word. Nothing was too small for him to not take care of.

Ella's face was radiant, her cheeks a lovely shade of pink and her brown eyes bright when she beheld her stepsister.

Jaqueline simply stood staring at the happy scene before her, her heart hammering in her chest. Her hands had gone clammy and her breathing was rapid.

'Is there something the matter?' Ella asked, her face showing concern she felt.

'I…I…' Jaqueline stuttered.

She couldn't seem to get the words out. Her courage had failed her, once again.

'Jaqueline?' Ella asked again.

Jaqueline took a large deep breath. She could do this. She had to do this.

'I need to talk to you.' She said, with as much of a confident air as she could muster.

Ella tried to rise, but with only a month left to go in her pregnancy, she struggled to lean forward.

'Ella, darling, don't exert yourself.' Christopher said, rising from his own seat. 'What do you wish to speak to us about?'

Jaqueline took a tentative step towards the two of them.

'I heard,' She began, 'That you have almost reached a decision.'

Ella looked at her curiously.

'A decision, on what? The little one's name, because that was a long time ago.' She said kindly.

'No, on my family.' Jaqueline said in a quiet voice.

Ella's smile dropped a little. Even Christopher stiffened.

Jaqueline knew what her family had done to Ella, how they had tormented her and abused her. And all the while it was going on, Jaqueline nothing. Because she had never been strong enough to stand up to them. She'd never had the courage to do what needed to be done before it got any worse.

But now, she knew she had to do something.

Taking another deep breath, Jaqueline lowered herself onto her knees.

'I am begging you,' She said, her voice quivering, 'Begging you, to please spare them.'

Never in her life had she thought that she would be the one defending her family. She had never liked them, never seen eye to eye with either her sister or her mother. But she couldn't stand by and watch.

'Jaqueline…' Ella began.

'No, please. I know what they did was wrong, and I know they deserve to be punished. But please, please, please, don't harm them.'

'You know what they did.' Christopher said, gritting his teeth.

'I know, I really know.' Jaqueline told him, tears forming in the corner of her eyes.

'Then why do you defend them?' He asked.

She sighed.

'Because they are my family, and they are the only one I'll ever have.'

The tears began to run down her cheeks.

'Ella, please.' She said, looking directly at her. 'What would you do to prevent harm coming to your family. What would you do to save that little one, or Christopher. What would you do if your parents were still here?'

Ella's beautiful face had gone pale, and her arms had instinctively circled the child that lay inside her.

Even Christopher had shivered at the mention of harm coming to his child.

'She is my mother, and I know what she did was wrong. And Anna, well she was just too stupid to know right from wrong. But they are my family, so I am begging you to please spare them.'

Ella gave her a small smile.

'Jaqueline, what on earth are you talking about?' She said.

Jaqueline could have sworn her heart had stopped.

'I heard that you had come to a decision about how you were going to punish them. They said you were going to lock them up, or…'

Ella just shook her head.

'No, no, your information is wrong. We have reached a decision, but it's nothing like you imagine.'

Jaqueline let out a long breath.

'They are not in any danger.' Christopher said, 'Well, at long as they stay away from us then they aren't.'

On shaking legs, Jaqueline made herself stand before them.

'So, what is your decision?' She asked, fear still making her stomach churn.

Ella took a deep breath.

'I finally just want to put this whole matter behind me. I don't want revenge or retribution. I just want to live the rest of my life in peace, with my family.' She told her, looking down lovingly at the bump.

'So, they won't be punished for what they did to me personally. But they will be required to pay back what they took from my inheritance. It seemed like the fairest thing to do.'

A small broken laugh fell out of Jaqueline's lips. They were safe.

It was better than they deserved, she knew that. And she could only hope that her mother would see this for the mercy that it was. She doubted she would, but she just had to hope.

Of course Ella would not want to seek revenge. She was the most caring person Jaqueline had ever met. Why had she thought that Ella would want to make her family suffer?

All of the nervous energy that had built up inside finally was set free. It was going to be alright.

'There are conditions.' Christopher said.

'Of course.' Jaqueline said.

'They will never be allowed anywhere near the palace. I honestly don't want them anywhere on my land, but I don't have the power to banish them. Not yet anyway.'

Jaqueline nodded.

'So, if you want to see them, you have to go to them, not the other way around. Of course, you are free to go with them…'

'NO!' Jaqueline shouted.

She had no desire to see them again. Her concern for her family went as far to make sure they were safe, but no further. She never wanted to speak to her mother again, and Anna was probably too dumb to realise that she was missing.

'We are perfectly happy to have you live here with us. But just to be clear, we don't want either of them anywhere near here. So please, if they want to have any contact with you, please just go somewhere else.' Ella told her.

'Trust me, that will not be a problem.' Jaqueline said, allowing herself to breathe easy.

She hated confrontation. All of her life, she had never been confident. She had been tossing and turning all night with pure terror of having to do this. She hated having to stand in front of people and having to speak. Even though it was only Ella, she still had felt awful about having to bring this up with her. She had been so kind and so forgiving to her, Jaqueline felt truly terrible for having to bring up her horrid and abusive family. There were some things that were best left forgotten about.

'Is this really why you've been so worried?' Ella asked her.

Jaqueline nodded.

'I didn't know what to do, when I heard. I knew they deserved it, and much worse, but my mother raised me. And while I don't like her, I don't want her to come to harm.'

'And you really thought that I would decide on that?' Ella asked, almost laughing. 'Really Jaqueline, you've known me for two years now, did you honestly think I would allow that to happen?'

Jaqueline shook her head slowly. Now she looked back on it, of course Ella wouldn't have done anything like that.

'She was right to be worried!' Christopher said. 'You might be an angel my darling, but I am not. If it had been left up to me…'

'But it wasn't.' Ella told him firmly. 'And you wouldn't have gone through with it. You are far too kind.'

Christopher smiled at his wife, and kissed the back of her hand. Ella beamed from where she sat in the chair.

Then, she tried to shift forwards, and her face contorted in pain. Christopher was immediately by her side.

'I'm fine. It's just back ache.' Ella said, releasing a gasp.

Christopher began fussing and asking her what he could do.

Jaqueline just stood back and let Christopher fuss over his wife. She had learned a few months ago that it was far easier to just step back and let him. He got agitated if there was something he couldn't do.

'Would you mind going to get me a glass of water and an extra pillow?' Ella asked her husband. He stood up straight away and left the room without another word.

Ella straightened up as soon as he was gone, a small smile on her lips.

Jaqueline almost laughed.

'You trickster!' Jaqueline told her stepsister.

Ella only smirked.

'I love him dearly, but he is far too predictable. And I wanted to speak with you.' She said. 'I'll apologise to him later.'

Ella gestured for Jaqueline to take the seat across from her, which she did.

'So, I have something to ask of you. And I understand if you say no.'

'Depends on what it is.' Jaqueline told her. She was already helping Ella out as much as she could. She had become a helper of sorts, reminder of when and where she had social engagement, keeping track of her correspondence. Ella handled the personal ones herself, but the invitation writing and replies went through Jaqueline. She liked doing it, it gave her a sense of purpose and it kept her time occupied. And her task had only increased since Ella had become with child. She couldn't keep up with everything, simply standing up was a struggle.

'Christopher has already asked James, but I need to choose someone too.' Ella said, reaching forward and taking Jaqueline's hand.

'Would you be this little one's godmother?'

Jaqueline froze. She was honoured, more than honoured. To be trusted with Ella's child. And not just Ella's child, the future heir to the Howards' Dukedom.

'I thought…' Jaqueline breathed.

'Thought what?' Ella asked.

'Thought you would want Marion. You've known her longer.' Jaqueline admitted.

It was true, Ella had known Marion for four years, and had been good friends with her. Marion had been the one to finally stand up to Lady Kingston and bring Christopher to where Ella had been almost a year ago. Marion had been the one who was her friend throughout her year of slavery. Jaqueline had tried to help her when she could, but she had not been her friend.

Ella smiled.

'I did consider it. But Marion has her own life now. She isn't even in Rault any more, she's living in a town called Milton. I haven't really seen her since my wedding. And while she is one of my oldest friends, you are my sister.'

Jaqueline could have sworn her heart stopped at that. Never before had Ella referred to her as a sister. Always a step sister.

But if she really considered her to be part of her family…

'Really?' Jaqueline said. 'You want me to be godmother?'

Ella nodded.

'And besides, I'm planning on having a large family, so Marion will be godmother to one of them, I'm sure.' She joked.

'Don't let Christopher hear you say that!' Jaqueline told her. 'He's stressed enough with only one child on the way. If he hears you want more, he very well might have a heart attack.'

Ella smiled. 'I'm sure I'll bring him round to the idea.'

'Slowly.' Jaqueline said.

'So, is that a yes?' Ella asked hopefully.

Jaqueline nodded. She was truly honoured that she had been asked. Ella was her sister, and trusted her to look after her child. It meant a lot to her. After living so long under the shadow of her family, Jaqueline finally felt like she had been set free to make something of her life, more than just marrying well like her mother had wanted her to do.

No, now she had a much happier family, who valued and respected her, and wanted her in their lives. Her mother and sister could leave and never return for all she cared.

'Thank you!' Jaqueline told her. Ella smiled, her lovely face glowing.

'ELLA!' A voice called from across the room.

Both women turned to look towards the door, where a shocked Christopher was standing, a glass of water and pillow in hand.

'Oh good, you're back.' Ella said charmingly.

Christopher just sighed. 'You know, there are easier ways to get me to leave, other than making me panic.'

Ella just gave him a loving smile. 'I'm sorry my love.'

Christopher just chuckled a little, and still brought the pillow and water to her.

Jaqueline just watched the scene before her, the love and happiness the two of them had. It was truly a beautiful image, the two of them as husband and wife, with a little one on the way.

And Jaqueline was so very grateful that she had been allowed to be part of their family, even after that happened that year. And she knew that she would enjoy the rest of her life far more than she had enjoyed her life with her mother and sister.

The future was unpredictable and wide, but she knew that it was going to be much happier from now on.

Much, much happier.

* * *

 **Two months later.**

'Shhh!' Jaqueline whispered to the small bundle in her arms.

The tiny baby boy's wails filled the nursery. He had been crying for the last ten minutes, and Ella was asleep in the next room. Jaqueline had tried all of what Ella had told her to do, but he was still crying.

Little Jonathan's mouth was open wide and his eyes were squeezed shut. His cries echoed off the walls. Although she loved the baby boy dearly, she was beginning to get frustrated that he wouldn't go back to sleep.

'Shh! It's alright. Your mother's coming back soon. She's just closing her eyes for a little bit. She loves you very much, and will be back soon.' Jaqueline told him.

Jonathan eyes began to relax a little, and eventually opened. His large brown eyes stared up at his godmother, and he instantly stopped screaming.

'Hello there!' Jaqueline cooed, rocking him slightly.

Jonathan made a small gurgling noise as he stared up Jaqueline. She thought her heart might just burst from the sight of it. His adorable rosebud mouth puckered as blinked at her.

'Well, who's the most beautiful little boy in the world?' She whispered while she lifted her finger to his tiny hand. His small fingers closed around hers tightly.

'Is he hungry?' Came a voice from the door.

Jaqueline turned her head around to see Ella standing in the doorway, still in her nightgown, her long golden hair hanging limply down her back.

'I think so.' She told her, turning around fully so Ella could see her son.

Jonathan chose that moment to start making sounds that just made Jaqueline's heart soar.

'You're so good with him.' Ella said, taking him carefully from Jaqueline's arms. 'When the time comes, you'll make a great mother.'

Jaqueline froze. Her heart stopped.

Ella just took her son in her arms, not noticing Jaqueline's reaction. Ella started talking quietly to her son, who gurgled at her.

'You really will.' Ella said, looking up briefly at her stepsister.

Ice filled Jaqueline's veins. Pure and utter panic flooded through her at the mention of it.

'Jaqueline, are you alright?' Ella asked.

Unfreezing in time to look up at Ella, Jaqueline nodded.

'Yes, I'm fine.' She assured her stepsister.

'You don't look it.' Ella said. 'You've gone as white as death.'

'I'm fine.' Jaqueline told her, with a slightly fiercer tone.

'Jaqueline, what-'

'I'm fine!' She shouted.

Ella instinctively tightened her hold on her baby, and stepped back.

'I'm so sorry.' Jaqueline said, her voice now softer. 'I didn't mean to shout.'

'Jaqueline…' Ella said.

Jaqueline took a large breath, and hung her head.

'Is there something the matter?' She asked gently.

Jonathan took this moment to begin to fuss again, and his small cries filled the room. But Ella only stared with concern at her stepsister.

'No, I'm fine.' Jaqueline said, turning around and heading for the door.

'Please! Jaqueline!' Ella said, trying to take a step towards her, but Jonathan started screaming.

'Shh, oh darling.' Ella cooed, rocking her son back and forth.

Jaqueline took the opportunity to turn around and walk out of the door.

She continued to walk down the corridor, her heart hammering so loudly that she was sure everyone in the palace could hear.

She knew Ella hadn't meant to make her feel this way. She didn't know. No one knew.

Jaqueline made it all the way back to her chambers, and she slammed the door behind her. She fell onto her bed, releasing a long sigh.

A sharp knock came at the door, and Jaqueline whirled around to look.

'Jaqueline, it's only me.' Ella said through the door. 'I just want to make sure you're alright.'

'I'm fine!' Jaqueline said, not making any move to open the door. 'Jonathan is hungry, you should go and feed him.'

'Jaqueline please, just tell me what's wrong.' Ella said, the handle of the door turning a little.

'Your son needs you. Go and see to him.' Jaqueline shouted through the door.

'Christopher has him.' Ella said, just as the door opened. She was stood with such a look of concern on her face.

Jaqueline made no effort to move from the bed. And so, Ella stepped further into the room, until she was stood before her sister's bed.

'There is clearly something the matter. Is it something I said? Truly Jaqueline, I would never wish for you to be unhappy here.' She said, crouching down before her sister.

Jaqueline took a large breath, trying to control her emotions. She hadn't meant to get so upset, but sometimes she struggled to control it.

'Jaqueline, please just tell me.' Ella pushed.

'I'm never going to be a mother.' Jaqueline whispered.

It had been a fact she had known for a long time, and kept hidden. She had always kept it hidden.

'What?' Ella asked, placing her hand on the top of Jaqueline's arm.

'You said I'd make a wonderful mother one day. But I'm never going to be one.' Jaqueline said, the tears forming a little in her eyes. She'd kept it to herself for so long, that it was almost tears of relief that had formed.

'Don't be silly. Of course you can be a mother!' Ella said, giving her a small smile.

'No, I won't. Jaqueline said, a little firmer. 'Because, for that, you need a husband. Or at least a man.'

Ella looked very puzzled at that statement.

'Are you just worried that you'll never find a husband? Is that what this is all about?' She asked.

'No.' Jaqueline told her. 'It's about me not wanting a husband. Or any man.'

Ella confusion only increased. So Jaqueline took a large deep breath.

'I…I…I don't like men. I prefer…women.' She admitted.

Ella's eyes went wide with surprise. Instantly, Jaqueline regretted telling her. All of her life, she had kept the secret hidden. She had never told anyone else, ever, for fear of what they might do or say. It wasn't exactly looked well upon, but she couldn't help it. She had never had any interest in men, despite her mother's best efforts to marry her off. But she had always known, deep down, that she could never love a man like that.

'Oh.' Was all Ella said.

'Please don't say anything, to anyone. Please.' She said, begging her sister. 'And please don't make me leave.'

'Why on earth would I make you leave?' Ella asked.

Jaqueline swallowed. 'Because…'

'Oh, Jaqueline!' Ella said, pulling her in for a large hug. 'Don't be so silly.'

Jaqueline released a long breath, finally feeling a sense of relief that someone else knew.

'Did you think this was going to change anything?' Ella asked. 'Because it really isn't.'

The smile had bloomed on Jaqueline's face before she could realise it.

'You still want me as Jonathan's godmother?' She asked.

'Of course I do! Why on earth did you ever think otherwise? You are still the same person you have always been! And I'm so glad that you trusted me with this. You are my sister, forever, and I love you for it. It's a part of you, and I love all the parts of you.' Ella told her.

Jaqueline let one small tear fall down her face. Ella didn't hate her for it, like she had thought she would. In her mind, she had imagined what would have happened if anyone had ever found out, and none of them had ever come close to how Ella had reacted. They had always been declaration of hate or repulsion, never any of love.

'You really don't hate me for it?' Jaqueline asked, still not quite believing it.

'Of course not. You are you, and I could never hate you for that. I'm your sister, and if that is what you are, then I will always be there for you.' She told her.

No one had ever wanted to be there for her, not ever. Jaqueline had spent her entire life in fear of what might happen if her mother or sister had found out, what they might have done. It was one of the reason she had always been so shy and timid. Her family had never looked at her twice, and it kept the secret hidden. But now Ella knew, Jaqueline felt more confident than she had ever done in her life.

'Thank you, thank you so much.' Jaqueline said.

'There is no need to thank me. I've done nothing. Thank you for trusting me.' Ella said, pulling her sister in for another hug.

And in that moment, Jaqueline knew that as long as she had her sister, then her life wasn't going to be all that bad. She finally had a family who loved and supported her. And that was all she was ever going to need


	10. Antony

**Antony**

 **Two years and eight months before the curse on the castle.**

Light poured from the candles and through the large windows that lined the side of the room. Music echoed around the space, as well as endless amounts of talking and laughing.

Antony stood at the side of the hall, watching as the celebration played out before him. The birthday boy himself was over at the other end of the room, a glass of wine in his hand talking to Christopher. Antony watched them for a few moments, two of his roommates.

They had all come a long way in the nine years they had known each other. All four of them. Antony, Philip, Christopher and James. All young boys who had been forced to share a room that first day they had moved into Ashburne school when they were twelve. Antony had never felt more nervous in his life since that day his parents had dropped him off, his mother kissing him goodbye, and he sat on his bed all by himself, staring at the other three empty beds. He had been so scared to meet the other boys. But as soon as James and Christopher had walked through the door, talking happily amongst themselves, and had seen him, they had all bonded wonderfully. Antony had always thought that it had mainly been to do with the bag of sweets James had smuggled in from home. He had offered Antony one, with a large grin. The three of them had all been great friends after that. Philip had joined them later in the day, also terrified. But James had managed to pull him into the game of cards they were all playing (betting with the sweets), and before too long all four of them had become a group. Throughout out their school days, the four boys had been inseparable.

James and Christopher still stood on the far side of the room, talking quietly amongst themselves. They had always been closer with each other than with their other roommates. Antony didn't mind. He and Philip had a similar type of bond, and it had never felt like either James or Christopher had ever excluded him.

The sun was low in the sky, mainly as it was late evening in July. The celebration had begun in daylight, due to the fact that the summer sun only set late at night. Thorne manor had temporarily been taken over by most of their school year at Ashburne, and several specially invited ladies from the local nobility. Antony knew that James had argued against his father to let him invite some lowborns as well. But Sir Thorne had a very strict attitude towards class and who he would let into his house.

James however, had not let this phase them. The four of them had all snuck out the day before to attend the village's celebration for Midsummer. It always took place over the span of a few weeks, and it was always sometime near James's birthday. So, the four of them had spent the previous night dancing with lowborns, drinking, laughing, and just having a good time. It was something they all used to do whenever they could at Ashburne. Lowborn celebrations were always far more fun than Highborn ones. There was no set menu, no obligation to approach women in a certain way, no politics and tricks. They could simply go up to whoever they wanted to and start talking. It was very freeing.

The very first time they had done that was only a year after they had started at Ashburne. They had all climbed out of the window and headed to the local festival in honour of the Autumn equinox. They had all dance around the bonfire, only thirteen years old, and James had taken the opportunity to buy many more sweets. So it was only natural that they do it again for his birthday.

People were still arriving as Antony made his way over to where Philip was stood near the food table, with a particularly clingy girl batting her eyelids at him. Antony had never seen him look more awkward in his entire life.

'I'm sure you have done a great many heroic deeds!' The girl said, in a very irritating high pitched voice, smiling sickly at Philip.

'No, not really.' Philip muttered, trying to take a step to the side. The girl simply followed him.

'Oh, I'm sure you are just being modest. After all, as a Duke's son, you must have the opportunity to.'

'Philip! There you are!' Antony said, not being able to stand listening to that girl for another second.

Philip whirled around, a small smile appearing when he saw Antony.

'Would now be a good time for us to talk about that matter of estate taxation that you promised to discuss with me? I'm having a little trouble getting my head around the different percentages.'

The girl's face contorted in confusion, clearly she didn't understand a single word he had just said. But Philip only nodded.

'If you will excuse me.' He said politely to the girl, who still looked a little dazed. She just nodded, and Philip and Antony moved away from the food table.

'Thank you!' Philip muttered under his breath as they quickly walked away.

'I only listened for a few seconds, but her voice makes me want to put out my ears.' Antony whispered back.

'She's been following me for the past half an hour.' Philip mumbled.

'Oh dear, the trials of being a Duke's heir. Women throwing themselves at you!' Antony teased.

Philip turned red. Antony knew he hated it, and of course teased him mercilessly with it. So did James. Christopher was also a Duke's son and was ridiculed just as much as Philip was by the other two. But all of them knew it was good natured, none of them ever did it out of spite.

'We celebrated James's birthday last night. Why did we have to stay for this? He knows I hate it when highborn women are invited to these things. They always managed to find out about my father.' Philp grumbled.

'We're here, because it is his actual birthday, and there is a lot of wine.' Antony reminded him.

Philip grinned a little.

'Speaking of which, I need a glass. She might come back.' Philip said.

Antony only nodded and walked with Philip towards the table full of wine glasses. Philip grabbed the nearest one and almost finished the glass in one mouthful. Antony just laughed in amusement.

'Steady on!' He told his friend.

'Let me have this.' Philip said, placing the empty glass down. 'You have no idea what that last half an hour has been like.'

Antony just picked up a glass for himself and sipped at the rich dark red liquid. It burned his throat as he swallowed it, but in a pleasant sort of way. Philip grabbed yet another glass, but didn't throw it down his throat like he had with the first one.

The doors opened again, and yet another person walked through the large dark wood door.

Except this time, Antony knew exactly who it was.

'What's he doing here? I thought James's hated him!' He whispered to Philip.

'He does. I have no idea.' Philip replied, and he looked for a moment as if he was briefly debating finishing the wine in one again.

Antony peered over the top of the crowd to try and see James. It didn't take much looking, as James was already making his way towards the latest guest, Christopher trailing behind him, trying to talk him into being civil.

Both Antony and Philip took a step forward to join their friends. This could not end well.

'I will be civil. I am always civil.' James said as he walked past. 'Do you two know what he's doing here?' James asked Antony and Philip.

'You are not always civil. You've punched him in the face before.' Christopher reminded him. Antony almost laughed with the memory of it. That had been a good day.

'Well, I'm older and wiser now. I will be perfectly civil.' James told his three friends.

'I'll give you ten gold coins that he is the first one to snap.' Philip whispered to Antony.

'Fifteen that Adam is.' Antony replied.

'Twenty, that James will snap within thirty seconds.' Christopher offered. The three young men exchanged wicked grins between them.

They finally came to a halt right in front of the newest arrival to the party.

Adam.

Their old school mate.

And the bane of their existence the entire time they were at school.

The new Lord Weston.

He stood in front of them in a very elaborate dark blue jacket and frilly shirt, his usual expression of distaste gracing his face.

'Adam. It's been a long time.' James said, his mouth contorting into a smug smile. 'How kind of you to drop by.'

'I was invited.' Adam told him curtly.

'Were you? Because I distinctly remember leaving you off the guest list.'

'James.' Christopher warned through gritted teeth.

'Your father invited me. Something about him wanting you to learn from your social superior.' Adam spat.

Antony could tell this was not going to end well.

'Oh, well. I'm sure Christopher and Philip here would be more than happy to teach you.' James told him sarcastically.

Adam scowled at him.

Christopher stepped between the two of them.

'James, you have other guests to see. Adam, how have you been? I don't think we've heard from you since we left school.' He asked.

James just turned on his heel and walked away, but not before he gave Adam a vulgar gesture over his shoulder. Adam started for him, but Christopher effectively blocked his path, making him calm down a little.

'You owe me.' Antony whispered to Philip. 'Pay up.'

Philip sighed before pulling some coins out of his pocket and handing them over.

'So, what have you been doing?' Christopher asked hopefully, trying his hardest to distract him from James. He'd always been the peace maker in the group. The one who was always far too kind hearted.

'I've been at Duchess Knox's court.' Adam said sharply. 'I was invited.'

'And, do you like it?' Christopher asked, in a desperate attempt to keep the conversation going.

'I've left now. I found it wasn't all to my tastes.' He said, with a hint of cruelty in his voice.

Antony had known Adam since they had started at school, and he had never particularly liked him much. James had outright hated him on sight. But now, he seemed even more stuck up and horrid than he had done when they were boys. Antony didn't know what had happened to make him like this, but he didn't really want to know.

'Oh.' Was all Christopher could say.

'Excuse me.' Adam said, not at all politely, before he turned on his heel and left the room.

Christopher let out a long sigh.

'I'm going to kill James if he makes me do that again.' Christopher swore, reaching for the wine in Antony's hand. Antony gave it to him gladly, and watched as Christopher mirrored exactly what Philip had done earlier and drained the glass in one swift gulp.

'Glad to know I'm not the only one who feels that way tonight.' Philip said, patting Christopher on the back. Christopher just grimaced.

'Come on,' Antony said, 'It's a celebration. We should be enjoying ourselves, not getting ourselves stressed like this. And I need more wine, you drank mine.'

Christopher apologised, even though Antony didn't mind in the slightest. The three of them caught up to James who was stood at the wine table.

'He seems to have run off somewhere.' Philip said. James nodded.

'Good. Good riddance.'

'Could you try to be a little more kind to him? Just a tiny bit?' Christopher asked.

James turned around to face them fully.

'Do I have to?' He asked, pleading with Christopher to say no.

'Yes, you do.' Christopher insisted. 'He doesn't have a group of friends like we do.'

'Can we not talk about this now? It's my birthday celebration.' James asked, handing Christopher another glass of wine. Then he passed one to Philip and Antony.

Christopher admitted defeat, as he nearly always did, and the four of them raised their glasses in a toast.

'To James, that he made it to the grand old age of twenty-one before the rest of us.' Antony toasted. They clinked their glassed together and drank.

'You'll all be joining me soon enough, in my old age.' James joked when he had finished his glass.

'I'm not sure I'm looking forward to mine.' Christopher said. 'My family apparently has a grand tradition of a large ball when I come of age. An entire night of highborn women chasing me around the palace, trying to trick me into marrying them.'

James and Antony exchanged a look.

'Oh yes, how hard for you.' James crooned.

'It must be so hard, women chasing you!' Antony teased.

Philip stepped away so he was stood next to Christopher.

'It's harder that you give us credit for!' Philip said, defending Christopher.

James and Antony only started laughing.

'So then, this celebration can also be for you Christopher, even though your birthday isn't for another nine months. We'll get drunk and be stupid at this one so your father can enjoy throwing you a large ball for your actually birthday.'

'I'll drink to that!' Christopher said, refilling his glass, and then everyone else's. They all cheered and drank some more.

Antony stood and thought quietly to himself how he knew exactly how this was going to end. He'd only seen Christopher drunk a few times, and none of those times had ended well.

* * *

Several hours later, Antony was proved right.

There had been dancing and drinking, and a lot of food, so by the time the sun had been gone a good while, Christopher was not in a good way.

They had all had a considerable amount of wine, but they all had very different limits. James had taken himself off with a young lady somewhere in the woods outside the manor, and the other three were singing very loudly as they wandered around looking for him.

'James! James! Nice young lady! James!' Christopher shouted in a whispery tone.

Antony just walked forwards, swaying from side to side a little, as he felt happy and content with all the wine buzzing around his head.

Philip was also shouting for James, leaning on Antony for balance.

'I miss this…' Philip slurred, looking up at Antony. 'I miss… I missallofustogether.'

Antony only hummed his response.

'Oh. Hello!' Christopher said loudly, and Antony turned to see him staring at something in front of him. There was a shocked scream that sounded vaguely feminine.

'Are you the pretty lady?' Christopher asked. Antony couldn't see who he was staring at. He hobbled over, still dragging Philip on his shoulder.

'Pretty Lady! Don't run off!' Christopher said.

'Christopher! What in hell!' Came a loud shout.

Antony knew that voice. That was definitely James. Antony and Philip rounded past the tree that blocked their view, to see Christopher gawking at James.

James was quickly trying to pull his jacket back on, and twigs snapped as someone ran away.

'Where have you been? Did you not hear us shouting!' Christopher slurred.

'Yes!' James shouted. 'Yes I heard you!'

'Then, why were you hiding?' Christopher asked, taking a wobbling step towards his friend.

James looked towards Antony who was by far the least drunk of the three of them, who just shrugged.

'I was busy!' James said.

'Where did the pretty lady go?' Christopher asked, still not really understanding what was going on.

'You frightened her off!" James shouted, buttoning up the final button on his jacket.

'Oh dear! Am I scary? I'm very scary to have frightened her off.' He said, swaying.

James looked exasperatingly to Antony, begging for some sort of reasonable person. Antony just smiled back at him, enjoying the fact that James had to deal with drunk Christopher immensely.

'You're just rude, not scary.' James said, looking back to his friend.

'NO!' Christopher shouted, 'I am never rude! I AM VERY POLITE!'

James shook his head in frustration.

'IN FACT!' Christopher shouted. 'I WILL APOLLO…APOLOGISE TO THE PRETTY LADY NOW!'

Antony just lost his control and burst out laughing. James glared at him.

'THERE YOU ARE PRETTY LADY!' Christopher bellowed. 'I AM VERY SORRY FOR…FOR…BEING SCARY.'

'Christopher.' James said softly, 'That is a tree.'

'WHAT?' Christopher shouted.

'That's a tree, not the lady.'

'IT'S A LADY TREE!'

'No, it's just a tree, you are apologising to a tree.'

'I'M SCARY!'

'No, you're not.'

'LADY TREE, PRETTY LADY TREE. TELL JAMES I AM SCARY!'

Antony found himself bending over with laughter, as did Philip.

'Christopher!'

'NO! I AM A LORD, AND I AM POLITE. I'M GOING TO APOLOGISE TO THE PRETTY TREE LADY, AND YOU CAN'T STOP ME!'

And with that, Christopher ran off into the forest. James groaned loudly and ran off after him.

'You're going to get yourself killed!' He shouted as he ran.

'NO I'M NOT! I'M GOING TO FIND THE TREE LADY!'

'CHRISTOPHER! IF YOU DIE, I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!'

Antony shook with laughter, while Philip's head lulled on his shoulder. He was almost asleep, clearly he'd had far too much wine.

'Why…Why…why don't we all stay together? Like at school. I missthisalot.' Philip mumbled.

'Because, James is going to kill Christopher.' Antony told him, trying to heave him up, and turn him around to go back to the house.

'Oh, again?' Philip asked, his eyelids drooping.

There was some vague shouting coming from the forest, something about male trees and how they were angry.

But Antony just turned around and dragged a very sleep Philip back inside. They just about made it up the stairs when the front door was flung open and Christopher came running inside, his clothes in tatters and twigs sticking out of his hair.

James wasn't far behind him.

'There was another pretty lady!' Christopher told them as he ran past.

'It was the same one!' James told him, but in an annoyed tone that implied he had already said this many times. 'And she didn't appreciate being called a tree.'

'But she's a pretty tree!'

James just groaned and followed him up to the hall. Antony made it to the top of the stairs with Philip when there was a loud groan from the other side of the door, followed by a loud retching sound.

'Well, that's Christopher gone.' Antony told his almost unconscious friend.

'Yourenotchristopher. Youreantony.' Philip slurred. Antony pulled him the last few steps and they both went into his bedroom and Antony let him fall onto the bed. Philip was still mumbling stuff under his breath, but Antony was also too tipsy to pay much attention. He closed the door behind him, and took a large deep breath, exhausted from the exercise of having Philip lean on him for most of the night.

There were more retching sounds on the other side of the door, Christopher was really not having a good night. Antony poked his head around the door to see James rubbing Christopher's back as he vomited into a bucket in the corner.

'How's he doing?' Antony asked.

'He's not going to be good tomorrow. How's Philip?' James replied.

'Asleep. Also probably not going to be good tomorrow.' Antony told him.

James just gave him a small smile.

'You should probably get some sleep. You look about ready to fall over.'

Antony knew it was true, he felt it. His head wouldn't stop spinning, and he felt so exhausted.

'Sorry about your birthday.' Antony said.

'No, this is great. We'll have a great time reminding Christopher of this. And I'll just make him make it up to me at his birthday ball.'

As if on cue, Christopher retched again, right into the bucket.

'Go on, sleep. I'll see you tomorrow. I hope someone will remember this.' James said.

'Goodnight.' Antony shouted, turning around and closing the door on them. His bedroom was all of two doors away, and by the time he had walked through the doorframe, he knew that tomorrow wasn't going to be so good for him either. So, he just flopped onto the bed in front of him, and let his eyes close, sleep taking him instantly.

* * *

AN- I hope you are all enjoying these one shots so far. However, this will be the last one for a while. The next few one shots concern parts of Marion's story that haven't been published yet, so just bear with me. But once the relevant parts of Marion's story are released, I'll start uploading these again.

Thanks fo reading. And as ever, please review!


	11. Annette Part 1

**Annette**

A tiny little foot pressed against the inside of her belly, as Annette looked down to see her baby kick inside her.

It was so close, only a few more days before she'd finally see the face of her child.

Everything had turned out wonderfully. After all those years of misery, it had all turned around, and now Annette had everything she ever dreamed of.

Her baby kicked again, causing Annette to smile.

'Annette?' Came the voice of her husband as he knocked on the door.

'She's kicking!' Annette cried as he entered the room. Edward beamed as he strode over to the bed and placed his hand gently on her bump, just as the baby kicked again.

'I still think it's a boy.' Edward argued.

'I know it's a girl. I just know.' Annette said as she shifted to try and sit up a little more.

Her husband pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and she leaned into his touch. How long she had dreamed that she would be here? How long she had loved Edward, from a far at first, and then finally had it returned?

Far too long. But it had all turned out right in the end. The baby that could be born any day was proof of that. Her baby, Edward's baby, their family.

'Do you need anything? Anything at all?' Edward asked.

'A glass of water would be perfect.' She told him. He smiled at her, then her belly, and then left the room without another word.

Annette relaxed into the pillows. Only a few more days, then they would be a proper family.

'Everything's ready.' She whispered to her bump. 'It's all here, ready for you to arrive. You're going to be so spoiled. You're going to get everything I never got. Two parents who absolutely adore you, and all the toys and things you could ever want.'

'Well, I wouldn't be so sure about that.'

A quiet male voice spoke those words from the corner of the room. Annette's head snapped up instantly to see the face she had almost forgotten about.

Terror, pure and utter terror filled her heart at the sight of the male who stood before her.

The blood retreated from her face, and her hands shook as she placed them protectively over her unborn child.

'You.' She managed to utter.

'You look surprised to see me. Did you think I had forgotten?'

Annette had not forgotten. Not in the slightest. She had simply hoped she would never have to see him again.

His dark brown robes were exactly the same as the last time she had set eyes on him. Even the hairs on his beard looked unchanged by the years.

And worst of all, his bright golden eyes were staring directly at her belly.

She shook her head in response to his question.

He didn't react.

'I don't forget deals. Ever. I thought I made that perfectly clear to you when you agreed.'

'What do you want?' She asked, her voice trembling. 'I'll give you whatever you want if you leave us in peace.'

She now had that power. She had money and riches and influence. All things she could never have offered him before. Maybe, he would take something that could be replaced.

'Oh, there's something that would be just perfect for fulfilling your side of the bargain. After all, I kept my word.' He told her, gesturing to the room around her.

A shiver ran down Annette's spine. She'd always known this day would come, even if she had hoped with all her heart it wouldn't.

She had prayed that it had all been behind her; that this was the happy ending she'd always been dreaming of. Her husband and child and her, always content, always in love.

Now, that dream was slipping through her fingers. All because of the male in front of her.

And also because of her. All because of that fateful day that had quite altered her life.

 _Stood behind a tree in the early evening, Annette peered around to look at the one true desire of her heart._

 _The hunting party was laughing and joking with each other, the men patting each other on the back in congratulations of their latest kill. One of them attended to the horses while the others filled their skins with water._

 _Annette's gaze was fixed solely on the man on the end of the line. His brown eyes glimmered with mirth as he slowly filled his skin, his brown hair sticking a little to his brow from the exercise, his muscles shifted as he stood back up._

 _She had never seen a more handsome man in her entire life. His golden tan skin almost shone in the last rays of sun._

 _Lord Edward Knighton. Annette's lord and master. And also, the deepest desire of her heart._

 _She'd known of him her entire life. He was the lord's son who ruled her village. But when his father died a few years ago, he inherited his title and became her lord._

 _Even though he spent most of his time in his castle, he did occasionally visit the village, and those moments were the ones Annette treasured. She'd never actually spoken to him, only see him from a distance, but that didn't stop her heart racing any time he was near._

 _He was every bit the handsome young man she'd always dreamed of. He was kind and considerate, that was evident from the way he cared for his mother, the widowed Lady of the castle. And he genuinely cared about the people he ruled; he always had time for their issues and complaints._

 _It also helped that he had a face that made most young maidens swoon._

 _That day, he had been out hunting with some of his friends, when Annette had spied him whilst walking back through the forest picking flowers._

 _She liked to spend as much time as possible outside. Or in the village square. Or at a friend's house._

 _In fact, she liked spending time anywhere that wasn't at home. She liked being away from her father._

 _He didn't care where she was, he had never cared. The only thing he had ever cared about was when he was getting his next drink. He cared more for the bottle in his hand than he ever had for his daughter._

 _It didn't matter how late back she got, she could stay out in the forest all night, and he probably wouldn't even bat an eyelid._

 _So, Annette stayed behind the tree, just watching the person she wished so desperately would notice her. He laughed with his friends as they packed up their belongings and climbed back onto their horses. With a heavy heart, Annette watched as they clicked their tongues and the horses took off in the direction of the castle._

 _She leaned back against the tree, as the sounds of the horses faded away to nothing._

 _Annette knew that nothing could ever come of it. It was all just a lovely dream, to hope that one day he could come to feel for her what she felt for him. She was a lowborn girl; they didn't marry lords. They settled for a labourer, or a farmer's son if they were lucky. Someone who would be kind to her, who would give her children to care for, but would not be the passionate romance she had been dreaming of._

 _The sound of footsteps approached on the nearby path, and Annette picked up her flowers and prepared to make the journey home. She sighed and stepped out from behind the tree and made her way to the path._

 _An old man was walking in the other direction, towards her, his long grey hair and beard standing out against the dark brown of his robes._

 _Annette didn't even look at him; she simply kept her head down and continued to walk forwards. She almost passed him completely by when he spoke, and the words sent chills into her very bones._

 _'_ _Annette Merthin.' He said._

 _Her entire body froze at the sound of her name. There was something in his voice that sounded…otherworldly. Like it didn't quite belong to him, or to any human._

 _She turned slowly and glanced up to the old man who had spoken, only to be met with sad golden eyes._

 _She recoiled instantly._

 _Fae. He was a faerie._

 _He stared at her, assessing every inch. She wanted to run, she wanted to go home. Even her father was preferable to the fear that consumed her by being in the presence of a faerie._

 _But there was something about him. Some tiny thing in his expression that made her feel…pity. He looked tired and weary. And as he looked at her, she felt that there was something about her that upset him._

 _She didn't speak, she wasn't sure she was able to._

 _'_ _I've been searching for you for quite some time.' He said. That did nothing to put her mind at ease._

 _'_ _What do you want?' She asked, her voice coming out barely more than a whisper._

 _He sighed._

 _'_ _I am here to help you. With your little problem.' He told her._

 _'_ _What problem?'_

 _'_ _The problem with the lord.' He said._

 _Annette felt her heart tighten at those words._

 _'_ _How… What… Why?' She managed to utter._

 _'_ _I have my reasons.' He snapped, glaring at her. She stepped back again at the sudden volume of his voice._

 _'_ _Do you want my assistance or not.' He asked impatiently._

 _'_ _With what?'_

 _'_ _With getting that pretty boy to notice you.' He explained. 'Or do you already have a plan? Hiding behind trees is it?'_

 _She blushed from embarrassment, and stared at the forest floor._

 _'_ _You're going to get nowhere like that' He told her. 'But I can help.'_

 _She looked up at the faerie with a little scepticism._

 _'_ _How?'_

 _'_ _I have certain abilities that I can use. But I warn you, I don't do anything without a price.'_

 _Annette considered it for a moment. He was offering a chance to meet Lord Edward! A real chance!_

 _'_ _What will you give me, I wonder? If I offered you the hand of the handsome lord in marriage. How would you repay me?' He mused. Her heart almost burst at the mention of his hand in marriage._

 _'_ _Anything.' She breathed, still not quite sure she was hearing him correctly. It was all she had wanted since she had first laid eyes on him all those years ago._

 _He only shrugged._

 _'_ _You do not have anything. You are a lowborn. You have no gold, no money, and no influence.'_

 _'_ _But he has.' She pointed out. 'If he offers his hand to me, then I will be able to repay you. Not right now, but one day.'_

 _He seemed to consider it for a few moments. Then, he gave her a curt nod._

 _'_ _It is a deal. I will assist you tomorrow, and you will give me whatever I ask for when the time comes Ensure you are here at midday tomorrow. No earlier, and no later. Looks like rain.' He said._

 _There was something in his expression that made Annette want to retreat in terror. Like he knew precisely what he wanted, and he was trapping her like a rabbit in a snare. Her blood turned cold._

 _But, she also knew that there was no other way for her to meet Lord Edward. And she was willing to sacrifice a great many things if it meant being his wife._

 _It could actually happen. She could meet him for the first time, have a conversation with him, tell him how she felt!_

 _His hand in marriage! This fae could offer her the chance to marry him! Annette had never thought it would be possible._

 _She nodded to him._

 _'_ _I will be here tomorrow.'_

 _He held out his hand to her, and she took it gladly._

 _'_ _Nothing I do is without a price. I will not forget this bargain.' He told her, the command in his voice made her recoil a little, but he kept a firm grip on her hand._

 _He turned her hand over, and to her surprise, golden streams of light began to erupt from his fingertips, engulfing her hand. She watched in amazement as the almost ribbons of light wrapped around her outstretched hand. It did not hurt, but rather, it brushed over her skin softly. Only for a moment did she glance up at the faerie, and to her shock, found him looking distraught. It was only there for a second, before he controlled his emotions again, and all traces of his true feelings vanished._

 _The golden light faded, and Annette pulled her hand back out of his reach._

 _'_ _It is done.' He told her, his voice a little rough._

 _She beamed, and then took off in the direction of the village, with a lightness in her heart she had never felt before._

 _Hope, she had hope._

 _Only once did she turn back around, and discovered that the faerie had disappeared. She practically ran home, the light fading with every passing second._

 _The familiar door of her home came into view and she slowed to a walk, taking several deep breaths. The windows were dark, but that was no guarantee that her father wasn't home. Sometimes he was too drunk to bother lighting the candles. Slowly, Annette opened the door and peered around it, her blonde hair falling a little over her eyes._

 _'_ _Father?' She asked. She was only meet with silence. But she also knew that too was no guarantee that he hadn't passed out._

 _Lighting a candle near the door, Annette stepped inside and looked into her Father's room. It was empty._

 _She sighed and changed for bed, her heart still fluttering after her interaction with the faerie._

 _His wife! She really could be Edward's wife! She would be the Lady of the castle. She would have the handsomest husband in the land, and the kindest. Her life would be charmed and wealthy, and she'd never have to worry about poverty again._

 _And whatever the faerie's price was, it couldn't be too high, could it? If she married him, she'd have plenty of riches to give him. It could be a fortune, and she'd still be able to pay it._

 _'_ _GOLD. I NEED MORE GOLD!' Came a loud shout from outside the house. Annette curled up in her bed, pulling the blanket up around her. She knew exactly who was shouting._

 _The front door banged open, revealing a shadow in the door._

 _'_ _WHERE IS THE GOLD?'_

 _The shadow stomped around the house, until he lent too heavily on one side and a loud clatter rang out, making it obvious he had fallen._

 _'_ _ANNETTE! GET IN HERE GIRL!'_

 _Annette pushed back the blanket and got out of bed. She had learned the hard way that it was easier to simply help him now, than deal with the consequences later. Her father was not a violent man, but he got a little out of hand when he'd had something to drink. Annette still had one or two scars that would never fade._

 _'_ _Father?' She asked quietly, trying to find him in the dark._

 _'_ _GOLD, GIRL! WE NEED MORE GOLD! I NEED MORE DRINKS.' He roared_

 _'_ _We have no more gold father.' She told him in a calm voice, finally finding him with her hands, and grasping his shoulder._

 _'_ _MAKE SOME THEN!' He yelled. 'DRINKS…COST GOLD.'_

 _'_ _I can't make gold Father, no one can.'_

 _'_ _YOU CAN. MAKE IT FOR ME!' He shouted, looking around the room. 'MAKE GOLD OUT OF SOMETHING! THAT STRAW OVER THERE.'_

 _'_ _That's impossible father.'_

 _'_ _Just get me more gold.' He commanded her, even though the exhaustion in his voice was obvious._

 _Pulling him along, Annette managed to get her father to fall into his bed. He fell face first onto the mattress, and began snoring at once._

 _Annette stared at the sorry state that her father was in. He'd been like that for as long as she could remember. Her mother had died giving birth to her, and according to the other villagers, he'd started drinking that very night. Some of them had even remarked that it was a miracle Annette was still alive after having her drunk father look after her as an infant._

 _Most of the time, she pitied him, and his inability to cope without the crutch of drink._

 _But sometimes, very rarely, she hated him. She hated him for neglecting her, hated him for choosing the bottle in his hand over her. It made her feel small, as how could a father choose drink over their daughter unless the daughter was worthless. There were times she blamed herself for it, for causing her mother to die, and she hated him even more for making her feel that way._

 _As Annette thought, it became clear that maybe that was one of the reasons she so desperately wanted to marry Lord Edward. She'd have someone who loved her, who didn't make her feel worthless. And she'd be far away from her father. He'd take her to live in the castle, and she'd never have to deal with her father's drunken messes ever again._

 _She wanted something else, anything else than what she was currently enduring._

 _Exhausted from hauling her sorry excuse for a father across their house, Annette flopped onto her bed and fell under the blissful escape of sleep. Her dreams were beautiful, a happy future with a husband who loved her. And as always, he wore Lord Edward's face._

 _The next day, Annette made sure to be in the forest on the path at the appointed hour. The bright sunshine overhead shone through the leaves overhead, showing no sign of the promised rain._

 _She paced the path that the faerie had told her to be, walking back and forth, in some vain attempt to rid herself of the nervousness building up inside her. It didn't help very much._

 _Just as the sun in the sky hit its peak, a horse whinnied in the distance. Annette's whirled around to face the source of the noise, frantically looking for any sign that the faerie's magic had worked. A loud cry, human this time, echoed around the forest._

 _Without thinking, Annette ran towards it, back down the main path to the castle and off to the right. A sorry sight greeted her._

 _The horse galloped off into the distance, straps and buckles trailing after it as it fled. But Annette's attention went straight to the rider who was laid on the floor clutching his leg._

 _The rider, with a very familiar face._

 _Those lovely brown eyes that had been so full of mirth the day before, were now showing only pain. His face contorted as he tried to move his leg a little._

 _Lord Edward. Right here before her._

 _Just like he had promised._

 _'_ _Are you alright?' Annette asked quietly, fully aware her heart beating so fast she thought it would explode out of her chest._

 _The lord looked up from his leg, and finally, after all those years, his eyes met Annette's. Relief was written all over his face._

 _'_ _My horse threw me.' He winced, glancing back down to his leg._

 _Annette took a hesitant step towards him._

 _'_ _Would you like some help? Where does it hurt?' She asked, almost in a trance that she was finally speaking to him._

 _'_ _I think my knee is sprained. Or dislocated.' He told her. 'Could you run to get some help?'_

 _Annette's heart sank. He wanted her to go away._

 _'_ _I could…I might be able to…' She stuttered._

 _He smiled sadly at her._

 _'_ _I don't doubt your intentions. However, I think carrying my weight might be a little beyond you.' He said, looking her up and down._

 _Annette cursed herself for being so stupid. She was a small thin girl, of course she wouldn't be able to help him. Years of not having enough to eat thanks to her father's problem meant she was not very strong._

 _'_ _I would be very grateful for the assistance though.' He reassured her._

 _Annette was about to reply, when out of nowhere, a loud lightning bolt cracked right overhead._

 _Both of them instantly look up to see it flash across the suddenly cloudy sky. The thunder rumbled, echoing off the nearby hills, and filling the air with dread._

 _Annette scarcely had time to look back down to Lord Edward before the first drops of rain began to fall._

 _'_ _Where did that come from?' Edward mumbled, more to himself than Annette._

 _'_ _We need to find shelter. You need to move.' She told him, but not in a commanding tone. She would never order a highborn to do anything. It was not her place._

 _He nodded, as more rain fell, splattering on his face, his clothes and all around them._

 _'_ _Can you help me up?' He asked, extending his hand towards her. 'I know a cave near here.'_

 _She nodded, and stepped forward, still not quite believing this was happening._

 _Leaning down, she let him wrap his arm around her shoulders, revelling in his touch. She was actually touching him! Helping him to walk!_

 _He grunted as he pushed himself off the floor and Annette pulled him up until he was standing._

 _'_ _Thank you.' He said, 'I'm Edward, by the way.'_

 _'_ _I know.' She mumbled._

 _'_ _You know?' He asked, a little confused. Once more, Annette cursed herself silently for being so stupid._

 _'_ _I..uh…live in the village. You're the lord.' She explained._

 _'_ _Oh.' Was his only reply._

 _Dragging his leg along behind him, Edward made a valiant effort of trying to walk as best he could. Annette pulled him up and the two of them hobbled towards the cave._

 _'_ _What's your name?' He asked, a little out of breath, as the rain continued to grow heavier and heavier._

 _She almost stumbled back after hearing those words. Here it was finally, Lord Edward was asking for her name!_

 _'_ _Annette.' She told him._

 _Out of the corner of her eye, she was him smile a little._

 _'_ _That's a pretty name. It suits you.' He said._

 _She blushed and averted her gaze. She couldn't believe he was actually saying these things to her._

 _They ambled along as best they could, until Lord Edward spotted the cave, and the two of them slowly made their way towards it._

 _Passing under the roof of the cave, Annette set Lord Edward down on the floor, and then almost collapsed next to him. Both of them were panting and exhausted; forcing them to sit for a while to recover their breath._

 _Annette's heart thundered the entire time. Here she was, confined in a cave with Lord Edward, alone. The faerie had actually done it. He had kept his promise._

 _'_ _So, where in the village do you live? I don't think I've seen you there before.'_

 _Annette looked down at the floor. Of course he had never seen her before, she always hid when he came to the village and watched from afar._

 _'_ _Behind the market square, and keep going for about ten minutes. I live right on the outskirts.' She confided._

 _'_ _Isn't that the poorer district? Where all the houses are in disrepair?'_

 _He seemed to realise his mistake the moment the words left his lips._

 _'_ _Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean…'_

 _'_ _It's alright. Yes, that is where I live.' She admitted._

 _'_ _So, why haven't I seen you before? Do you not go to the celebrations? Springbloom, or Mayday?'_

 _'_ _Um…I was busy. My father needed tending to.' She said. And it wasn't a lie. On the day of most celebrations, her father had too much to drink and needed help to ensure he didn't choke on his own vomit. Annette briefly attended the celebrations, but never was able to spend much time there._

 _'_ _Oh, what a shame. The celebrations are so fun. You should try and come to at least one.'_

 _'_ _I really don't know. My father…it's difficult to…he needs help.'_

 _She sighed. This was not how she had pictured this going in her head. She had always dreamed of a romantic conversation, or declaration. And instead, she was telling him about her father, which was the one topic she had wanted to avoid._

 _'_ _Well, if there is anything I can do to help, please let me know.' He told her._

 _She looked towards him, in both surprise and confusion._

 _'_ _You have potentially saved my life, helping me out of the rain, I think it is only fair if I repay the favour.' He explained._

 _She blushed again. She knew he was kind, but never thought that he would be so generous. Here he was, offering help to a man he didn't know, purely because Annette helped him get out of the rain._

 _'_ _I'm sure you have bigger things to worry about.' She said. 'You're the Lord of the castle.'_

 _He reached out and placed his hand gently on her shoulder._

 _'_ _If it's one of the villagers under my care, then it's important.' He said softly._

 _Annette's heart thought it was going to fly right out of her chest._

 _Thunder rolled overhead, and the two of them glanced up as the rain became more intense._

 _'_ _We might be here a while.' He observed, as the rain drops bounced off the forest floor before them._

 _'_ _Yes, we might be.' She mused._

 _He smiled and turned to her._

 _'_ _Well, at least I'm not on my own.' He told her._

 _She turned to him, still struggling to contain her excitement._

 _'_ _Why don't we pass the time.' He suggested. 'Tell me about yourself.'_

 _Annette couldn't form words to reply. He wanted to talk to her. He wanted to know more about her!_

 _'_ _Are you alright?' He asked, looking concerned._

 _'_ _Yes.' She managed to say. 'But there's not much to say about me.'_

 _'_ _I'm sure that is not true.' He told her. 'Now, come on. Tell me all.'_

 _She smiled shyly at him, and began to talk._

 _They talked for hours, all alone in the cave. The rain never seemed to cease as it hounded the ground until it nearly flooded._

 _Both of them told the other about their lives, their interests and hopes. Lord Edward even confided his dreams in her. She had never felt so privileged in her entire life. It was beyond anything she had ever hoped it would be._

 _She mentioned nothing about her own heart, how she had wished this day would come. She had no desire to scare him away. If this was the only chance she was going to get to talk with him, there was no way on earth she was going to waste it._

 _Every second she spent sat by his side, she fell deeper and deeper under his spell. He was polite and kind and amusing, and he made Annette smile like nobody else._

 _And there were a few moments, just a few, where she could have sworn he looked at her as she looked at him, with desire in his eyes._

 _But alas, all things must come to an end, and so did the rain. It was hours later, but the skies began to clear, and the sun finally emerged from behind the dark cloud._

 _Edward tried to stretch his leg out, and to his great astonishment found that most of the pain had vanished, his injury almost completely healed over in the few hours they had sat in the cave._

 _'_ _It's like magic.' He remarked. Annette bit her lip, as she suspected what had actually happened, but pretended to act surprised._

 _He was able to stand and walk, even if he did have a slight limp._

 _They both left the cave, Annette still supporting him a little. He clung to her arm, and she found herself saddened by the thought of letting him go. Here he was, so close to her, and it was so close to everything she had dreamed of._

 _'_ _I must return to the castle. My mother will be worried about me; I told her I was to be back just after midday.' He said._

 _Annette just nodded, her heart heavy._

 _'_ _May I,' He began, reaching forward to take one of her hands in his, 'Be permitted to visit you? Or see you again?'_

 _Annette froze on hearing those words, and it took her a few moments to realize he actually said that to her._

 _'_ _I know I'm being forward, but-'_

 _'_ _Yes.' She interrupted, unable to keep the smile from her face._

 _Lord Edward beamed, and bent forward to kiss the back of her hand._

 _'_ _Where did you say you lived? On the edge of the village somewhere?' He asked._

 _'_ _No, please, Lord Knighton. Don't go to my home.'_

 _He huffed a laugh._

 _'_ _You don't need to call me Lord Knighton. Edward will do.' He told her, with a smile._

 _Annette blushed and said 'May we meet here, Edward?'_

 _He once again kissed the back of her hand._

 _'_ _I'd like nothing more.'_

They had always met by the cave almost every week for a year, and in that time, Annette had fallen more and more deeply in love with the handsome Lord. Then, exactly a year after that fateful day she had helped him out of the rain, they met again.

But that time, he went down on one knee, and asked her to be his wife.

Annette had never known joy like it, until their wedding day, when they had vowed to love and cherish each other for as long as they both should live. That day was even more full of joy.

Only one day since then had exceeded that. The day she had told Edward that she was with child. He had cried out in joy and spun her around, kissing her belly and swearing to love and protect their child.

They had lived happily, until this very day, when the faerie had returned.

And now, Annette was terrified.

She'd had a lot of time to consider her deal with the faerie, and she had since come to her senses.

She had promised him whatever he had wanted.

That could mean anything. Not just gold or jewels, but anything.

And she would have to obey him. She had seen the magic that day, and knew that her promise was binding. She would have to give him whatever he wanted. She had grown to fear the day when he would come back to claim what she owed him.

'What do you want?' She repeated, trying and failing to keep herself from shaking.

The faerie's golden eyes flared wide, as his gaze settled on her large belly.

'I want.' He told her. 'Your Child.'

Annette froze.

No.

No!

No! She would not give away her child.

'No!' She cried at him.

'You made a deal.'

'No!' She screamed, trying desperately to cover her bump, to shield it from him somehow.

'You promised me whatever I wanted. I want your child.'

'No. Never! You're not taking her!' Annette cried.

'Him.' The faerie said simply. 'It's a boy.'

Annette froze again. How could he possibly know?

A boy. It was a boy. Her son, Edward's son. His heir.

She couldn't give her baby over to this monster. Never.

'No, You can't.' She screamed at him.

'You made the deal. It's bound by magic. You cannot escape it. The price for breaking your word would be even worse than losing your child.' He told her.

All of the blood in her body went as cold as ice at his words.

'I came here to warn you. I'll be back when the child is born. You'll have two weeks to say goodbye, then I will come to claim what is mine.' He said.

Then, without another word, he turned and vanished.

Annette couldn't think. She was too terrified.

Her child. Her baby.

He was going to take her baby.

Her hands shook as she wrapped them tightly around herself and her child.

And then, she screamed.

* * *

Two weeks after the birth of her son, Annette paced the Ballroom of the castle, waiting for the creature that had haunted her every moment to arrive.

Her beautiful baby boy, her little Henry, had been taken far away by Edward's mother, to hide. She knew that if she had gone with them, he likely would have tracked him down as well. She didn't even know where he was, and it weighed on her like an ache.

He was only two weeks old. He shouldn't be parted from his mother so soon.

Every second of their separation was torture. He was her perfect little baby, she wanted him back in her arms.

But, if all went well, then he would be home soon, and all of this would be a far off nightmare.

'Annette!'

She didn't hear her husband. She was too busy trying to calm herself down. She knew the moment he arrived, she would crumble before him. The very second those cold golden eyes met hers, she would beg him to take anything instead of her baby.

'Annette! My love, calm.' Edward told her, standing in her path and placing his hands gently on her shoulders.

'Where is he? Why isn't he here?' She cried, swallowing the sobs that threatened to spill.

'Annette, all will be well. We're going to make him change his mind. He's never going to lay eyes on Henry.' Edward told her, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

Annette still shook with fear for her child. Nothing would calm her.

Right then, the doors to the ballroom clattered opened and one of the guards ran in, completely out of breath.

Annette almost screamed. The guard strode towards them, yelling, 'He's here!'

'It will be well. We're going to win.' Edward whispered, but he struggled to hide the emotion in his voice.

Annette knew she should trust him. She knew that he would do anything if it meant that their son was not taken from them. But that didn't stop the horrid dread settling in her heart at the mention that he was on his way. Even Edward couldn't defy magic, regardless of how hard he tried.

Loud footsteps echoed down the hall, and Annette shook in terror while her husband held her. Each sound made her flinch as they became ever louder and louder.

And then finally, he appeared.

Still wearing the same dark brown robes as he had always done, his long cloak billowed behind him as he strode toward the two of them.

His golden eyes fixed on Annette as he approached the end of the room, and his brow crinkled in confusion.

'Where is the child?' He asked, stopping just feet away from them.

Annette's voice trembled as she said 'Not here.'

'I warned you.' He told her. 'I said there would be dear consequences if you broke our deal.'

'It was a deal made out of ignorance. Take it back.' Edward shouted.

'I'm afraid I can't do that.' The faerie informed them. 'Now, tell me where the child is.'

'No.' Edward said. 'Never.'

'You are not a part of this deal. The magic binds Annette, not you.' The faerie snapped at him.

'He is my child. This damned well concerned me!' Edward roared.

'Then you should have bedded someone who did not make a fools bargain with me then!' The faerie retorted.

'Annette is my wife. I chose her, regardless of any bargain.' Edward argued, his face turning a dark shade of red.

'So, what did she tell you, hmm? That she just happened to be on the path that day, and just found you by chance before the rain began to fall?' The faerie taunted.

'She told me everything. I know how you tricked her that day.' Edward spat.

Annette still trembled, but at least she knew in her heart that she had told him everything. As soon as the faerie had left before, Edward had run back into the room after hearing her screams. She had told him all she knew; the deal, her desperate love for him, the promise the faerie had made.

'There was no trick. I offered her a deal, and she took it. It's her own fault if she was too stupid to see that this might happen.' He replied.

Edward's face grew even darker as his hand curled into a fist.

'How dare yo-'

Instantly, the faerie raised his hand, his golden eyes flaring red. He glared ad Edward and pulled his hand back suddenly.

Edward only grasped his throat, his mouth still wide.

Then, almost as quickly as it happened, the faerie let his hand drop, his eyes melting back into their usual golden colour.

Edward opened his mouth to finish the rest of his sentence, but nothing came out of his mouth. No sound, no words.

Only silence.

Annette screamed again.

Edward desperately clawed at his throat, trying to make any sort of sound leave his lips, but…nothing.

'I've had enough of this.' The faerie told them, sounding almost bored. 'Just give me the child, and it will all be over.'

'No.' Annette said, her voice still quivering.

'You can't break the deal.'

'Then, make another one.' She pleaded.

Both Edward and the faerie stared at her, Edward in shock, and the faerie in interest.

'I will give you anything else. Anything other than my child, if you make another bargain with me. Gold, jewels, power, anything.' She told him.

Then, bravely unwrapping her husband's arm from around her waist, she knelt down on her knees before the faerie, tears streaming down her face.

'Just don't take my baby. Please! Not him, anything but him.' She begged.

Edward was still staring at her in disbelief, but the faerie seemed to be considering it.

'Whatever you wish, name it. I love my baby. Please don't take him away from me.'

The faerie took a large deep breath, as if resigning himself to something, and then replied.

'I will make a final bargain with you, Annette Merthin.' He conceded. Annette was in no mood to point out that she was married, and her name was now Annette Knighton.

'Anything. Just not my baby.'

'You may keep your child.' He began, 'If…'

Both Annette and Edward held their breath in anticipation of what his demand would be.

'If, you can guess my true name.' The faerie told them.

Annette almost screamed. She had no idea where to even start looking for his name. He had never revealed it, and she doubted he would make it easy for them to find. Edward pulled her to her feet as she trembled.

She had never had dealing before with the fae, until that day she met him on the path, but according to legend, the fae were very secretive, and only gave away information when they wanted to. Finding out something he didn't want them to know was almost an impossible task.

'I'll be generous. You have a day to prepare. Then I will return. You may have three days to guess my name, one guess per day. And if you have not gotten in right, then I will take Henry. But if you do guess correctly, I leave, and you never see me again.' He told both of them.

Annette was still shaking, trying to think through all he had just told them.

But one overwhelming thing stood out.

He knew that her son was called Henry. He knew! If he knew that, he might know where he was hidden, and take him before their time was up.

'If not, I'll just take him now. The choice is yours.' The faerie said, rather impatiently.

'Yes.' Annette said. There was no question about it. This at least bought them a chance of keeping their son safe. They had to keep him safe.

The faerie held out his hand to her once more, but before she could grasp it, Edward stepped in between the two of them and offered his hand to the faerie.

Annette knew what he was doing. He was trying to take the deal on himself, so that if it was broken, he and he alone would face the consequences, not her. Her heart almost burst at his gesture, if it had not been so terrified for the last few minutes.

'I have no interest making deal with you. Only her.' The faerie informed him, pushing past him to get to Annette. When Edward tried once more to stand between them, the faerie's eyes flared red again, and Edward was pushed backward by several feet by a large gust of wind that forced him back. Annette starting sobbing at the sight of her husband so easily defeated.

She held out her hand and the faerie's fingers closed in around her own. The gold light once more erupted from the ends of his fingers and wrapped around her wrist, binding the golden magic to her. Edward watched in despair was his wife made the deal that could either damn or save their baby boy.

The magic vanished, and the faerie released her hand. Annette fell to her knees again as great rasping sobs rose in her chest.

'I will return the day after tomorrow for your first guess. You only have three, so don't waste them.' The faerie informed them.

Suddenly, he turned on his heel, and stormed out of the room, closing the doors behind him with magic, the sound echoing off the walls in a mighty Boom.

Edward's ability to speak returned the moment the faerie left, as did the enchantment that was holding him back.

He ran to the sobbing form of his wife, who was screaming.

'He's going to take him. He going to take Henry!' She cried, as Edward wrapped his arms around her.

'No he is not. We're going to find his damned name, even if it kills us. He is never taking our son.' Edward told her forcibly.

And as they held each other, a grim determination settled in them both.

The monster was not ever going to touch their son.

They just needed to find his true name.

And find it they would.

* * *

AN- I realise this might not make much sense at the moment, as Annette isn't obviously related to Marion in any way. But I promise if you persevere then the connection should become obvious. There are another 2 parts to Annette's story, so bear with me.

Also, as a side note, I am posting this on the 20th of May, which also happens to be Marion and James's wedding day, if you have read AHE. It's not really relevant, but thought I'd mention it.

AHR is now well under way, and it's almost finished being written (I'm getting there slowly) and Chapter 5 was posted on Friday instead of Sunday, for those of you who haven't seen it.

Thanks once again to my Beta, whose had to put up with my rantings, and still managed to spellcheck this ridiculously long story. Sorry about that!

And, as always, please review!

Thanks

generic fangirl.


	12. Annette Part 2

**Annette**

It was growing dark when the guard returned.

The guard that could either damn or save their son.

He came almost running down the corridor, out of breath and red faced.

Edward instantly was striding towards him, desperate to know if he had succeeded in his task.

While Annette had been lying in bed waiting for the child to be born, and dreading the arrival of the faerie, Edward had been planning.

There was no way on earth he was going to let that monster take his child. They would be prepared.

And so they were. Edward had employed more guards around the castle, so no one could see the faerie appear of leave without seeing where he came from or was going to.

He made sure that no one knew the location of their son, not even the two of them. The place that Edward's mother had taken little Henry was written on a piece of paper and guarded until the time came to retrieve it, when the threat of the faerie was gone.

No one really knew what the faerie was capable of, so as many safeguards as possible were put in place to protect the new-born.

Annette and Edward had spent hours trying to find anything they could on the fae, any scrap of information, any hint that could help them break the bargain. Annette had laid in bed reading, while trying to reassure herself that her son would be alright, that he would be safe. Their bedroom had been filled with books and scraps of paper with endless notes on them. Annette couldn't read very well, she had only begun to learn when she married Edward. She'd never needed to know how to read before, but now she was a lady, it was a required skill.

So, Edward had spent hours by her side, attempting to reassure her as he worked. He copied out passages in books, wrote letters to other highborns who may have books or information on the fae.

He got a very interesting letter back from some Duke's son called Christopher Howards, who claimed that the book 'The origins of mythology' held a lot of information about the fae. He mentioned that he had a friend who was also looking for a way to rid themselves of a faerie's curse, and had found the information recently.

Edward immediately sent servants to try and hunt down the book in his library, but it came to nothing. It was only when he replied to Lord Howards begging for more information, did the very generous lord send the original letter that he and his wife had received, from some woman called Marion Thorne.

She had copied out passages of the book that related to the fae, and had begged Lord Howards, and his wife, Ella, to see if they could find anything else. Edward did not know what curse this woman was under, but she sounded rather desperate to break it.

This letter had arrived after the birth of Henry, and Annette was in no state to argue with her husband when he suggested the safety measures they were going to take. Although she hated the idea of parting from her beautiful new born son, she knew it was for the best.

She had laid in bed, recovering from the birth while Edward had planned the entire thing.

Once the faerie arrived, the guards were to watch him closely. To find out where he came from, and where he was returning. They needed as much information about the faerie as possible.

Edward had not counted on Annette making another deal, but he had anticipated that the fae would be not satisfied with the fact he could not take the child that day, and would have to return. If Henry wasn't in the castle, he couldn't be handed over. Edward had guessed that he would try and return the day after, forcing Annette to give up Henry.

But another bargain, where he returned for three days, also would work.

Annette had followed Edward's plan as best she could, trying to comprehend it between the moments when her heart was so consumed with terror for her child.

Edward had planned that several guards would follow the faerie, splitting off into different direction so they remained unnoticed, but always keeping him in sight. They were to find out where he was staying, or lived so they could organise a raid, to either kill him or find out more information.

The letter that the woman had wrote told them that a faerie's curses or bargains could be undone if the faerie was killed, unless they had bound their magic to them. Annette had not heard him say anything about binding his magic, so Edward had assumed that they were not the unlucky ones who had to endure that. Maybe that woman, Marion, was?

As the guard stood panting in the ballroom of the castle, Annette listened closely as he described exactly where the faerie had gone.

There was a small cottage in the middle of the woods. Not even a cottage, more like a room, the guard had said. The only way to enter was through a door carved into a tree trunk. The fae had used magic to open it, and slipped through. There were no windows, on the door.

'Tomorrow, you show us it. And then, the day after, we raid it. He will be distracted by coming here to speak with Annette, so we raid the room when he sets of. In and out, just take everything. We probably won't have time to sort through anything when we go inside, so just grab everything that may be of use. We'll figure out what it means later.' Edward ordered him. The guard just nodded, and asked for permission to retire for the night. He had been running all day, as it was the first week of August, it was rather late when he had returned.

Annette turned to her husband as they both watched the guard leave.

'Will it work?' She asked timidly.

Edward sighed.

'It has too. Henry will be safe, I promise you.'

* * *

Neither Annette or Edward slept well that night.

Both of them woke at various times, usually roused by nightmares concerning the loss of their son, and the faerie who threatened to take him away.

Annette lay awake as dawn broke over the horizon, feeling sick that she had brought this all upon them all. If she had never made the deal with the faerie, Edward would have never had to suffer like this. He would have married another woman and had a child he would have loved just as much as he loved Henry now, and he would have been happy.

It was all her fault. Her own stupid fault.

She'd never felt so powerless in her entire life. Not even her father had made her feel so low. Maybe that was why he always had neglected her, because he knew that somehow she had been the cause of his suffering too. She had killed her mother.

She made too many people suffer.

And Annette didn't feel she was worth anything.

Tears streamed down her face in the pale morning sunlight as she considered that she'd hurt everyone she'd ever loved. It was all her fault, all her fault!

A warm arm wrapped around her waist, and she turned to see Edward, grave faced, pulling her towards him.

Neither of them spoke, but Edward pulled her into his arms and held her as she cried.

That day; Edward, the guard who had followed the faerie, and several others all set off early, leaving Annette alone in the castle in nervous anticipation.

She had very little to occupy her, and far too much to think about.

Just to cheer her up a little, the housekeeper had suggested they sort through all of Henry's rooms, to make sure they were ready for when he returned.

That only made Annette more upset, as she broke down and admitted that she didn't know if he ever was returning.

The housekeeper also suggested maybe going to visit her father, just so she had someone to talk to. After her marriage, her Father had moved into the castle with her. She hadn't wanted him to, but the alternative was to leave him in poverty, alone. She knew he wouldn't last too long without someone there to clean up after him and ensure he was not going to choke during the night. He would possibly also starve to death, as he had relied on Annette to do all the cooking since she was a young girl. Although she hadn't liked the idea, and some small jealous part of her wanted him to suffer for all he had done to her, she knew that he was still her father, and he was the only one she was ever going to get. She couldn't leave him to die.

So, Edward had given him his own private wing of the castle, far away from everyone else. He hardly ever left it, preferring to keep to his own company and the company of his bottle of ale. But the servants checked on him every day to ensure he was well fed and still alive.

Annette knew that visiting her father would not help her current state of mind one bit. In fact, he was probably the one person that would make her feel even worse about herself. He would tell her that it was all her own fault that she had gotten herself into trouble, and she should just save herself the hassle and give over her child. He wouldn't care, he likely would have given her up if he'd had the chance. Annette had felt that way her whole life.

Instead, she simply paced the castle, simply waiting for Edward to return.

He did, eventually.

They had found the room, and had staked out the surrounding area, looking for another way in, apart from the door. They hadn't found one, so they would have to move quickly if it was opened and sealed by magic.

He called all his men and Annette into his study while he gave the orders about what was to happen the following day. Who was to accompany him, and who was to stay behind and guard Annette. There needed to be enough of them to make it believable that there were still the same number of guard guarding the castle as the day before. They couldn't have the faerie being suspicious until after the raid. After that, there would be no hiding what they had done.

Once everything was prepared, Edward told Annette what she had to do and say. She was to claim that Edward was sick, having caught a fever from being out in the rain after getting mad at her for making the fools bargain. She knew he wold never get mad at her for that, but it was the most plausible excuse they could think of to mask his absence.

The next morning arose, and the plan was put into place.

The men left early, hoping to catch him as he left the room so the door in the tree would still be open. Annette had to prepare herself for her first day of guessing. She dressed carefully, choosing a dress that didn't show off how wealthy she had become thanks to the faerie. Instead, she opted for a simpler dress, not quite one worn my lowborns, but certainly not one that befitted her station. None of the servants questioned it, but they're eyes betrayed a little of their confusion.

Annette waited in the ball room once more for him to arrive.

Her hands shook, and without Edward's reassuring presence, she felt vulnerable. She was weak, exposed, and not in control. She didn't like it one bit.

At long last, he appeared. Striding down the corridor as he had done only two days before hand, his horrid golden eyes were fixed directly on her.

She swallowed in fear, and tried to stand up straight, so he could not see how terrified she was. Her heart hammered inside her chest.

He stopped just before her, those final few steps making her flinch.

'No husband today?' He asked, not even glancing around.

'He's sick.' She told him, but her voice came out barely louder than a whisper.

The faerie scoffed.

'No he isn't.' He said.

Annette almost stumbled backwards. He knew. How could he know?

They stood in silence for a few more moments, and then Annette realised that he wasn't going to push it; to demand where Edward was.

'Shall I tell you my guess?' She asked.

'At some point today would be nice. I have other matters to attend to.' The faerie told her, almost with a bored tone.

She took a deep breath, and then managed to utter out, 'Prospero?'

Edward had told her the story one day in the cave. There was a man, an enchanter who ruled an isolated island far away, inflicting terrible judgement on those who tried to land on its shores.

The faerie didn't laugh, or even react.

All he did was shake his head slowly.

'No.' Was all he said.

Then, as suddenly as he had appeared, he turned on his heel and walked away again.

Annette let out a sigh of relief as she watched him go. She had known that wouldn't have been the correct name. She simply had needed to guess a name. If Edward could find anything, then they'd have more of a chance.

And so, Annette had to simply wait for her husband to return, hopefully with information that could save their son.

They had to save him, they just had to!

* * *

The plan had worked, and Edward came striding through the door not an hour after the Faerie had left. Annette had run out to greet him, wrapping her arms around him and telling him what had happened. He had apologised for making her endure it alone, and that he would be there for the confrontation the following day.

The guards unloaded their bags, and placed them all in the study, before beginning to unpack them.

Pages upon pages of paper were placed on Edward's study desk. Annette watched in surprise at the sheer amount of paper.

'That's all there was. Just a bed, desk, and a lot of paper. I'm guessing he does a lot of writing. He must keep track of all the people he's currently torturing.' He said.

Edward took a seat, and picked up the first one he could reach.

'This will be good reading practice.' He told Annette, as she took a seat next to him. 'We're going to have to go through all of this to see if there's his name anywhere, or if there is a clue to help us find it. Now, who else can read? The guards can't. Can any of the servants?'

Annette shook her head. They never showed any sign of being able to read. But if they'd come from the same sort of life Annette had led, then it was no surprise.

There was only one other person in the castle that Annette knew of that could read. And it was someone she didn't want to have to call upon.

'My father can read. Passably.' She informed Edward.

He turned towards her suddenly.

'Why didn't you say so earlier. We should go and get him.'

'He won't help.' She mumbled.

'We've got to try.' Edward said, 'Anything in this might help.'

'He won't. He could have taught me to read, but he didn't. He never wanted to help me.'

'It's to save the life of his grandson, how could he possibly say no?'

'He wouldn't do it for me, why would he do it for him?' She cried.

Edward placed his hand gently on her shoulder.

'You'll never know unless you ask him. I think he really does care for you, but he has trouble showing it. You can't just assume the worst about him.'

'He let me starve for years! I can think the worst of him if I want.'

'But he could help save our son. We need him, for Henry's sake, not our own.'

Annette had no reply for that. This was all for Henry, all for their son. This wasn't about her. She'd have to put her own feelings aside if it meant saving him. Henry was worth it; her baby was worth it. Her son was worth facing her father for.

So, with a heavy heart, she agreed to go and fetch her father.

She resented every footstep, every echo of her shoes on the wooden floor as she approached the door to her father's wing.

Edward was several steps behind her. He had agreed to support her if she needed it, but this was something she needed to do. She needed to know if her father would help them fight for their son. She needed to know if her father actually cared for anyone other than himself, if he felt anything for his daughter and grandson.

The door before her loomed as she got ever closer and closer to it.

Her heart pounded, she could only hear roaring in her ears as she placed her hand on the door handle and turned it.

Light streamed through from the other side, bright and hopeful. Annette stood in the doorway, looking around the small ante chamber for her father.

She didn't have to wait long as someone strode in. He wore fine but simple clothes, and much to Annette's surprise, held something in his hand that was not a bottle.

It was a book.

She was momentarily stunned by the man who stood before her.

Gone was the long and tangled beard. There was no darker skin under his eyes. His skin looked clean and without the familiar yellowish tint.

He looked surprisingly healthy. He looked good.

'Annette! Hello dear!' He grinned and stepped forward to embrace her.

She instinctively took a step back, causing her father to stop. Something like guilt flashed in his eyes.

'We've come to ask for your help.' She said quietly.

'With what?'

Annette stumbled over her next few words and couldn't say anything coherent.

'Henry's in danger.' Edward told his father in law. 'We're working to make sure he's safe, but there is hardly anyone in the castle who can read, and there's a lot to get through.'

Annette's father covered his mouth in shock.

'Why is Henry in danger? Who could possibly want to hurt him, he's only a few days old.'

Annette knew she didn't have to strength to explain to her father that it was all her fault, that she had brought this danger down upon her son. She was no better than her father, leaving her so to suffer for her stupid actions.

Edward stepped next to her and placed his hand supportively on her back.

This was something she had to do. She couldn't hide behind Edward forever. Not when it came to her father.

'I made a deal with a faerie. He let me meet Edward, if I gave him something in return. His asking price is Henry. I have two more days to guess his true name and free our son, or he gets Henry, and we lose our baby forever.'

She took a deep breath as her father only looked more shocked.

'I made a mistake. But I am not going to abandon my son. I'm going to fight for him, in the way you never did for me. So, I'm asking, for his sake, please help us.' She cried. Tears welled in her eyes as she finally said the words to her father she had been wanting to say to him her entire life.

He shook his head slightly, more in disbelief than rejection.

'Annette… He breathed.

'Do it for him. Please help save my son.' She begged.

Edward's hand began to stroke her back comfortingly, as if to remind her that she was not alone.

Her father took a deep breath, before looking his daughter directly in the eye. Those brown eyes that were the same as her own were so full of regret and sadness.

'Annette, I have made many mistakes in my life. But the biggest, most stupid one of them all, was not loving you as I should have.' He admitted, tears welling in his own eyes.

Annette stood stunned, trying to fight back her tears.

'I was never the father you needed. I never deserved anything as precious as you. And I wasted it, every moment clinging to my drink rather than my daughter. And I have never been more ashamed of anything in my entire life.'

The first of the tears began to roll down Annette's face. They splashed, warm and heavy on top her dress, and into her long blonde hair.

'And I know, that there is nothing I could ever do to amend for what I did. Nothing would ever be a good enough price. But, I swear to you, on my own life, I will never let anything like that happen to Henry. Ever!' He cried.

'So, you will help us?' Edward asked.

Annette's father nodded.

'No faerie is ever laying a finger on my grandson.' He replied firmly.

'Why?' Annette asked, barely louder than a whisper. 'Why me?'

'Why you what?' Her father asked.

'Why did you hate me? All those years, you let me think that you wanted nothing to do with me. What did I do to deserve it?' Annette asked, her voice trembling.

Her father took a tentative step towards her. This time though, she stood her ground and refused to back away.

'I never hated you. Never. You're my little girl.'

His tone was soft. She'd never heard it before; it was almost vulnerable.

'You never made me feel like it.'

'I know, and I can never apologise enough for it. Everything just happened so fast, and I couldn't….I wasn't able to….'

Her father took a deep breath.

'I loved your mother. So very much. More than anything else, other than you and Henry. And we were so happy when you were on your way. I'd never seen your mother's eye light up like they did when she spoke to you in her womb. You used to kick in response; it was almost like you could hear us.'

Silver misted her father's eyes as he spoke of the past that haunted him.

'But, when her pains began, something went wrong. Horribly wrong. She was so scared, screaming, begging for someone to save her, and you. The midwife probably did the best she could, but I was too occupied watching Evelyn as she fought through the pain. And then, the blood started.'

He had to take several seconds to compose himself.

'I loved your mother, and I had to watch as more and more blood flowed out of her, as her life flowed out of her. You were born and screaming, and the midwife told me you were perfectly healthy, but I couldn't tear myself away from the blood that was spreading across the bed, watching as the colour left her face, her eyes. The suffering of a loved one, knowing you can do nothing, knowing that it is inevitable, that is true torment.'

He lifted his gaze to meet Annette's.

'I would have done anything to save your mother, and yet I could have done nothing. She was already dead by the time you had been wrapped up in a blanket. And even then, the blood didn't seem to stop.'

Another deep breath.

'That picture, I see it every time I close my eyes. I see the life leave her face, see the blood. It's like it's burned onto my mind and it can never be erased. And what's worse was to know that it was all my fault. If I hadn't gotten her pregnant, she would have lived.'

'And so, I turned to the only thing that would keep the image at bay. The one thing that would grant me a small reprieve from the agony of losing her, and the utter hatred I felt for myself. Drinking.'

Annette was almost sobbing.

'For years, it was the only thing that stopped me reliving that moment. Every time it threatened to come back; the guilt, I grabbed whatever bottle was closest. You were healthy and perfect; you didn't need me to mess you up like I had messed myself up. I thought it would be easier if you grew up without me. But I couldn't even do that, I needed you to help me because I was too damn weak to support myself. I dragged you down with me, and I regret every moment of that.'

'Then, you said you were getting married, and I knew I was about to lose you forever. You were entitled to that, to be happy and loved. I expected you to leave me there. I deserved that, and worse. But you were too kind and brought me anyway. So, these last few months, I've been working to beat this.'

He gestured to the book in his hand.

'I haven't drunk anything since I got here. Not one drop. I made the servants take all of it away from me. Those first few months were hard; really hard. But it's gotten easier. I'm never going to let it get that bad again. And I'd like to try to start to make amends. I know nothing I could ever do would make up for your entire life, but I want to at least try. So, let me help save Henry, in whatever way I can.'

Annette needed a few moments to compose herself before she spoke. She didn't know what to think, what to say. This man had single handily ruined her entire childhood. He had made her miserable, made her hate herself, he had never loved her.

And now he was telling her that it was all a mistake and he wanted to do right by her?

Edward could sense that something was wrong, she could tell. So he replied for her.

'We'll thank you for your assistance when Henry is back with us.' He said politely.

Annette's father simply nodded, still looking at his daughter.

'Shall we? There's a lot of work to do.' Edward suggested, gesturing to the door. Annette broke her father's gaze and walked out, her husband and father following. She kept her pace steady and focused on getting back to Edward's study. She had a son to save, she could think about her father later.

All three of them sat in the study, reading through what seemed like endless pieces of paper. Most of them had scribbles of things that weren't even words, or at least not any words Annette or anyone else recognised.

Hours passed, with almost nothing of any consequence being discovered. The sun was almost beginning to set in the distance and Edward was yawning with exhaustion when he suddenly spoke up and passed one of the sheets of paper to Annette.

'Look, that name. That one right there.' He said, pointing to the word scribbled on the page.

Annette looked at it, a little confused.

 ** _Marion Brown._**

'Who's that?'

'I think she's the woman that Lord Christopher knew. The other one who was cursed somehow. The one who found the book.'

'No, I thought her name was something else. Marion T-?'

'One moment.' Edward said, rummaging through his top drawer. He produced a piece of paper, the letter he had received only days before.

'Marion Thorne.' He read, showing Annette the signature at the bottom of the page. 'So, it's not the same woman.'

'Actually, I think it might be.' She argued, pointing to another name on the page.

 ** _James Thorne._**

A line connected the two names.

'So, I'm guessing she's his wife.' She mused.

'And who's that?' Edward asked, pointing to the name on the other side of Marion's.

 ** _Jack Hale_**

The line connecting Marion's and Jack's name was scribbled out, and the word _Weston_ was written beneath the crossed out line.

'No idea.' Annette muttered.

'And who are all these other people?' Edward wondered. 'I know who that is!'

Annette scanned the entire page, looking at all the names. None of them sounded familiar to her.

 ** _Bianca Knox_**

 ** _James Thorne - Marion Brown\- (Weston)- Jack Hale_**

 ** _Alexander Brown (Sq_** ** _)-_** ** _Scarlett Knox._**

 ** _Daniel Brown (Ra)_**

 ** _Clara Brown (Sw)_**

 ** _Richard Brown (He)_**

 ** _Tom Brown (Fo)_**

 ** _Robert Brown (De)_**

 ** _Gwen Brown (Mo)_**

'None of this makes any sense.' Annette told him. 'I don't know any of these people.'

'You should. That name should be familiar.' Edward said, pointing to one name.

 ** _Scarlett Knox._**

'Should it be?'

'She's one of the most important girls in the county. Scarlett Knox, Duchess Knox's step daughter. She's the heir apparent to the dukedom, ever since her sister ran off.' Edward explained. 'And I'm willing to be that she,' He said pointing to Bianca Knox's name, 'Is the sister who killed their father.'

'So, who is this Alexander Brown that she seems to be connected to her?'

'That's just it. I don't know. Duchess Knox is our ruler, and I've been to her court. I've never heard of any family of Brown's. Which means they're not welcome at court. My guess, from the sheer number of these Browns, they're probably lowborn. So, why are they connected with one of the most prominent family of the land?'

'And what do all these letters next to their names mean?' Annette asked, tracing her finger over them.

Edward shrugged in confusion.

'Um, I think I may have something.' Annette's father offered from the corner of the room.

Both of them turned to face him.

'Has anyone heard of anything to do with a mirror of truth?' He asked, waving the paper in their direction.

Both Annette and Edward shook their heads.

'This isn't written by him. This has been ripped out of a book.' Her father said, standing up and walking over to the desk and laying the paper flat out.

He was right. It was definitely from a book, but there were notes and scribbles around the edge of the text.

 _The Mirror of Truth._

 _Once said to be of fae origin, the mirror of truth was made of both metal and magic, combined. It had one unique quality, the ability to give absolute truth to anyone who asked it a question._

 _However, the answer came with a steep price. The mirror took a piece of the askers soul in exchange for the truth they desired. These people were forever altered. The more questions that were asked, the less of their soul would be left, turning them into cold, unfeeling shells of what they once were._

 _During the reign of King Aufidius, after the end of the Duke Tarquin's uprising, the mirror was in the possession of the Duke's supporters. He had used it throughout the war to discover his enemies plans and find ways to defeat them. After his death, the King claimed the mirror, and to ensure that it was never used against him again, ordered it to be hidden away._

 _King Aufidius left in his will a clue as to the mirrors true location, though none have ever been able to solve it, and so, the mirror remains hidden to this very day._

'What use is that to us?' Edward asked, a little impatiently.

'It would tell you his true name.'

Annette's heart began to flutter in her chest. They could find his name! They could win this!

'But it's been lost for hundreds of years. How could it possibly be of use?' Edward cried.

'Because he knows where it is, look.' Annette's father said, excitedly.

He pointed to a note on the edge of the paper.

 ** _Duchess Nerissa's chambers._**

'Duchess Knox has this mirror of truth?' Annette asked.

'It appears so.' Her father told her.

'So, what do we do? Go to the Duchess's palace and demand to see this all knowing, soul destroying mirror? What if she says no, or even punishes us for even asking?' Edward said, running his hand through his hair.

'She can't say no. If we explain it's for our son-' Annette started.

'She will say no.' Edward interrupted.

'Why?'

'Because, I have met her before. I've been to her court. She has complete and utter power over everyone and everything there. She likes to show off her strength. If she had this mirror, she would have displayed it in front of everyone, to demonstrate how she owned one of the most powerful objects in the land. But she doesn't, which means she either doesn't have it, or she doesn't want anyone else knowing that she has it. I'm willing to bet it's the last one.' Edward explained.

'Why wouldn't she want anyone to know?' Annette asked.

'Because of the price.' Her father interjected. 'If she's used this mirror, then her soul is damaged, possibly beyond repair. And if people knew…'

'She'd lose her power over the court. She wouldn't be fit to rule. If what this page says is correct, it would eat away at her, turning her into a cold soulless shell. Duchess Knox loves power over everything else, she wouldn't hesitate to stop anything that threatens to take it away from her.' Edward finished.

'So, we can't get to it to use it.' Annette breathed, the hope that had been building vanishing with every passing second.

'Not necessarily.' Her father said. 'We could sneak in.'

'You want us to sneak into the Duchess's palace, to talk to a magic mirror?' Edward scoffed.

'Do you have a better idea? This mirror will tell you what his true name is, so that Henry can be safe from him. You only have two days left, I would suggest you take every chance you get.' He argued.

Edward only ran his hand through his hair again.

'Breaking in would be almost impossible.' He said, sadly. 'It would be suicide if she caught us.'

Annette's hands were trembling as she picked up the paper that had almost contained their saving grace. She read the words again, having to sound some of them out in her mind.

But as she held it in her hands, she noticed a faint black line on the page.

Furrowing her brow slightly, she turned the page over to discover more lines etched onto the back of the paper.

'Look.' She breathed.

Both her father and Edward stopped arguing and looked to her when she spoke.

Edward's mouth fell open as they stared at what the faerie had drawn on the back of the page.

A map.

A map of a tunnel that led directly to a room labelled **_Mirror._**

'There, that's how you get in.' Her father boasted, smiling a little.

Annette was still trying to process what she was seeing, when she noticed a word written in the corner.

 ** _Weston._**

'Who is this Weston person?' She asked, tracing her fingers over their name. 'They were on the other page. Something to do with that woman.'

'I have no idea. But they clearly know this faerie.' Edward said.

'Who cares about them. We can worry about that later. But now, someone needs to go and get this information so we can save Henry.' Annette's father pushed.

Both Edward and Annette nodded, and she put down the paper. Henry was their first priority. They could worry about these other people on the paper some other time.

'I'll leave tomorrow morning first thing.' Edward announced. 'Annette, you need to stay here, for when he comes to hear your answer.'

'No.' Annette protested. 'You can't.'

Ice had seized her heart when she heard Edward's words.

If he went, then he would trade a piece of his soul to get the Faerie's name. He would come back changed, less caring, less loving, hurt. She couldn't let him sacrifice part of himself for something she had brought upon them.

'Annette, someone has to.'

'Then let it be me. It's all my fault, I made the deal; it should be me.'

'No, I won't let you.'

'And I won't let you!' She cried.

'This is for our son. I will do whatever is necessary to save him.'

'And you think I wouldn't!' She shouted, her hands now trembling. 'I would do it gladly if it meant saving both Henry, and you.'

'Annette, please.' Edward argued.

'STOP!' Came a loud voice, and both of them turned to face Annette's father.

'I'm going. End of discussion.' He said simply.

'What?' Both of them asked at the same time.

'I meant what I said. I'm not letting that faerie lay a finger on Henry. And as you can't seem to decide whose going, I'm deciding for you.' He explained.

'I'm his father-' Edward began.

'Yes, so the boy needs his father. He needs you to love him and look after him, and you can't do that if part of your soul is missing, can you? And he needs his mother too, more than anyone else in the world.'

Her father looked directly at her.

'But, he doesn't need his grandfather. He doesn't even know who I am anyway.'

'No.' Annette whispered.

'Yes, I will be going. I want to try and make up for what I did Annette, and if that means doing this to save your son, then I consider it a start.' He told her.

'No.' She repeated louder.

'Annette, I'm going. It's the best way.' He said calmly.

'Annette, he's right.' Edward told her. 'Let him go.'

'No.' She protested again.

'Let me do this.' Her father begged. 'For Henry. This is his best chance.'

Annette didn't know what to say, how to respond, how even to think.

Her father wanted to go, to sacrifice a piece of his soul for his grandson. Her father, who she always thought was cold and soulless her entire childhood, wanted to do this for them now.

'It's the best way. Trust me.' He assured her.

She turned her head to see Edward nodding.

Although her heart protested, she knew deep down, that it probably was the best solution. Neither her or Edward would have to give up part of themselves, and they could go back to the happy family they should have been before the faerie had intervened.

But, what cost would it incur on her father?

She still hadn't forgiven him, no; that would take much more time. And she still resented him for making her childhood a living hell. But at the same time; he was her father.

He was the only one she was ever going to get. And now, part of his soul would be ripped away, just when he was trying to make himself better?

'Annette, my darling girl. Let me go.' Her father asked, kneeling before her. He winced a little at the effort. 'It's the best way.'

And so, Annette nodded her consent, hating what it made her feel.

'I'll go first thing tomorrow, if you would be so kind as to lend me a carriage, I'm afraid I don't know how to ride horseback If it's not too much trouble.' He asked Edward.

'For what you're about to do, Mr Merthin, I can certainly make that happen. I'll send some guards with you, just in case… you know.'

Her father just nodded.

'Right, well. I better get ready for tomorrow. I'll see you at first light.' He said, pushing back up off the floor.

And then, with one last glance back at Annette, he left the room.

'Will it work?' Annette asked, staring after her father.

Edward wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and pressed a kiss to her hair.

'I damn well hope so.' He murmured.

* * *

The next morning dawned bright and cheerful. However, this was not reflective of Annette's mood. She watched from the doorway as her husband spoke to the guards that were accompanying her father on his trip. Her father was sorting out his bag. Although the Palace was only a few hours away, and they should be back by nightfall, it was not certain that nothing would go wrong. If something did, if they were caught or stranded somewhere, they needed supplies to help them until they got back.

Annette fiddled with the hem of her sleeve as she waited for them to ready themselves, so she could say goodbye. She didn't know what her father would be like when he returned. If a piece of his soul was missing, who could tell what sort of a man would return?

When they were finally ready, the guards took up their positions on the carriage, and Annette was able to approach her father.

'Good luck.' She told him, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

He simply smiled sadly.

'Thank you. I know this won't solve everything. I don't think anything I ever do will be enough, and I don't blame you for feeling that way. But I hope, that when I return, you'll give me a chance to prove how sorry I am. With or without a soul.' He told her.

She shrugged. She hadn't completely decided if she wanted to give him another chance. It might just have been easier for her to tell him to go back to his chambers when this was all finished with. Just go back to ignoring him.

But his brown eyes, her own eyes pleaded with her. And she found that she didn't have the heart to tell him that. But she also didn't have the conviction to tell him that all was forgiven.

'We will see, on your return.' She told him.

He nodded slightly.

'That's all I ask for.' He said with a small smile.

'Sir?' Asked one of the guards. They both turned to look at him, as he was gesturing to the carriage.

'One moment.' He said, turning back to his daughter.

'May I?' He asked, unsurely, opening his arms.

She nodded, and her father folded her into his embrace. She couldn't remember when the last time her father had held her like that. So, she clung to him.

Her father; he really cared. He wanted to change. He wanted to be better, for her, for her son.

Sniffling a little as she pulled back, her father gave her a swift kiss to her cheek.

'My darling little girl.' He whispered. Annette felt the tears begin to well in the corner of her eyes.

And then, finally, her father turned back around and made his way slowly to the carriage.

Words threatened to spill from her throat as she watched him climb into the carriage. Words of forgiveness and love. But none of them ever made it past her lips. She kept them firmly closed as she saw the guard close the door to the carriage.

Not yet. She couldn't forgive him yet.

When Henry was back safely in her arms, and she could live happily with her son, maybe then.

Edward moved to stand by her side as the carriage began to pull away. The wheels scrapped against the gravel of the ground, and then they were moving. Her father lifted his hand up in a small wave by the window as he moved past her.

Then, before she knew what she was doing, Annette took a step towards the moving carriage. And then another. She had no idea what was making her move, but she just knew she had to.

The carriage increased in speed, and she followed, picking up her pace. Edward shouted something to her, but she ignored it, almost running after the carriage.

Her father lowered the window of the carriage, but it didn't stop.

Annette was flat out running now. She was still several meters behind him, but that didn't stop her. Her heart was hammering in her chest.

Her father leaned a little out of the window, and his brown eyes met hers.

'I love you, father!' She shouted, the tears now spilling down her cheeks.

She had to say it.

He was going to come back without part of his soul, she had to tell him, before it was too late.

'I love you too. My little girl.' He shouted back, with a sad smile.

At those words, Annette's running stop, and she came to a halt as the carriage pulled off further and further away from her. Then finally, her father leant back inside the carriage and pulled up the window.

Something in her heart change. It was if something had finally been set free.

Edward caught up to her, but stayed several paces back as sobs wracked her chest. She couldn't tell if they were because she was upset, or because she was happy.

She didn't know what to think.

Her child was still in grave danger, her father was away and about to get a piece of his soul ripped away.

But yet, he loved her. After all these years, he had finally admitted that he loved her. She had always thought he had hated her for causing her mother to die. She had felt worthless and horrid. But he really loved her, and always had.

And so, Annette wept as her father's carriage drove out of sight, on his way to the Duchess's palace.


	13. Annette Part 3

The faerie arrived at midday.

Exactly the same way he had arrived the day before.

Annette and Edward waited in the ballroom, hand in hand. The footsteps echoed loudly as he walked towards them, his long brown cloak billowing behind him.

Only this time, she was not alone. She felt a hundred times stronger than she had done the day before now Edward was by her side, and she didn't have to face him alone.

This was the monster that wanted to steal her child.

Only two more guesses. They only had two more chances to save their child. Her baby.

She wanted him back by her side. She knew that he was safe, hidden away with Edward's mother, but she felt his absence like an ache in her heart. She wanted her darling baby boy back in her arms.

The faerie stopped just before the two of them, exactly the same as he had done the day before. His golden eyes now just looked mad.

'I'm presuming that you are responsible for the damage done to my house.' He spat at Edward.

Edward, to his credit, didn't even flinch.

'So what if I am?' He responded, calmly.

'And was it worth the risk, I wonder? Only two guesses left.' He sneered.

'We shall see.' Edward replied.

The faerie turned to Annette, but what astonished her the most was his expression. Gone was the anger and greed in his face.

Instead, he looked almost sad. Heartbreakingly sad.

Annette had to stop for a minute, just to realise what she was looking at. Edward's expression hadn't changed. He was still staring at him with hate. But Annette, in that one moment, didn't feel hate for him. But rather, pity.

The Faerie was upset; about what, she couldn't tell.

'Annette, make your guess, and get this monster out of our home.' Edward encouraged.

She turned to him, shocked. Could he not see what was clearly written on his face? But as she gazed at her husband, she realised that he couldn't. The faerie had somehow disguised his true face from Edward. Annette was the only one who could see how he was truly feeling. It hit her like a blow.

The faerie simply waited patiently, still showing her his true face.

'Aufidius.' She muttered. It was the name of the king in the story about the mirror. Edward had told her to say that name. They had guessed that he would recognise it, and know exactly what they had found. Edward had guessed that he would rage when he worked out that there was nothing he could do to stop them from getting their son back.

But he didn't.

In fact, the faerie barely reacted. At all.

He didn't move for a few moments, and then simply shook his head.

'No.' He told them.

And then, without another word, he turned on his heel and walked back down the corridor.

'What?' Edward asked once he gone. 'Nothing?'

Annette was as stunned as much as her husband.

'He must know what the name was!' Edward complained.

'He knew.' She muttered, glancing down the corridor to where he had been only moments before.

'If he knew, he didn't look angry or annoyed or anything.' Edward almost shouted.

'No, he knew that we were going to guess that.' Annette told her husband.

Edward stopped, and gave her a confused look.

'He already knows. He knows everything.' She breathed, the understanding finally coursing through her.

Edward clearly still did not understand.

'That letter. The one that woman sent. He knows! He already knows!' Annette cried.

'Annette, what are you talking about?'

'It was in the letter! He knows.'

'What?'

But Annette was already moving. She half walked, and half ran down the corridor to Edward's study. Edward followed her, still very confused as to what was happening.

'The letter! Her letter!' Annette cried over her shoulder as she pushed open the doors to Edward's study, and immediately made for the drawer in his desk. Yanking it out, she found the letter she was looking for on top of the pile, and picked it up, laying it flat on the table as she read it slowly.

 _'_ _What is known about the fae is that they seem to have magic that concerns mainly the future, and days yet to pass. How they know this, no human has ever known, but all the tales consistently talk of how the fae knew exactly what was going to happen. Some sources even go as far to say that the fae are responsible for the days of the future, that they themselves work to ensure that the future will come to pass. Some believe that there are faeries who are always hidden from humans, but influence their lives, pushing them towards a goal. However, this is mainly speculation.'_ She read.

Edward was stood staring at her with her mouth agape.

'So, he already knows. He knows what's going to happen.' She explained. 'That's why he looked so upset. That's why he didn't react when I told him that name. He already knew we were going to guess that. He knew we were going to rob his house.'

'He didn't look upset.' Edward said.

'No, he did. He just hid it from you. I could see. It was an illusion, or something. But when he looked at me, he was upset. Heartbreakingly so.'

'But…if he was upset, does that mean…' Edward cried.

'What?'

'It means we're going to win!' Edward shouted.

Annette's heart almost stopped. She hadn't really thought it through. If the faerie was upset, it must have been because he knew that he was going to lose. They were going to get their baby back! Henry was going to come home!

Annette almost burst into tears for the second time that day, as her husband ran around the desk, and embraced her with joy.

'He's going to come home. Henry's going to be safe.' Edward muttered in her ear.

'Henry's coming home.' Annette repeated, not quite believing it. Her father was going to succeed in his task. Her baby boy was going to come home, safe and sound.

All they could do now was wait.

And wait they did.

For hours.

Annette paced the outside of the castle as she waited for her father's carriage to appear at the end of the long driveway.

But there was no sign of it.

The sun was beginning to set, it's golden light falling on every blade of grass and stone.

Nothing appeared. Not even a single rider.

Annette had waited outside for nearly three hours; from the time they were supposed to be back.

They were late, very late. She didn't know where they were.

'Annette, darling. Come inside and get some food.' Edward called from the doorway.

'No.' She told him firmly. 'He's going to be back any minute.'

'Don't worry.' He told her, walking up to behind her and pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

'They'll just have gotten lost or taken a detour. We're going to win; we already know this.'

'Then where is he?' She cried, her gaze still fixed on the end of the path.

'Come and have some food. They'll be back by the time you finish. You've hardly eaten anything all day. You've just had a baby; you need to keep your strength up.'

'I'll eat when he comes back.' She told him firmly.

And by some sly twist of fate, at that exact moment, the sound of horses sounded in the distance.

Followed by the sound of a carriage.

'Told you.' She smiled.

Then, finally, the carriage made its appearance at the end of the path. Annette almost cried out for joy as it slowly made its way down the path towards her.

She was about to run out to greet it, when Edward placed his arm in front of her, and said 'No, wait.'

'Why?'

'Something's wrong.' He muttered. 'Wait here.'

And with that, he stepped forward, half jogging to meet the carriage.

Icy dread had filled Annette's heart when she heard those words. What could be wrong?

And then, she noticed it too. The carriage was moving slowly, far too slowly. Something had happened.

Edward pulled to a halt at the same time the carriage did. One of the guards jumped off the front and began to talk to Edward with a hushed voice. They were too far away for Annette to hear, but it was clearly something serious.

After a few moments, Annette realised it was strange that her father hadn't stepped out of the carriage to tell Edward what the faerie's name was. Or to greet her.

'Father?' She cried, her feet moving forward before her mind could catch up.

What had happened? What had gone wrong?

'What is it?' She asked, approaching the carriage.

Edward and the guard broke away from their conversation and turned to Annette. But Annette didn't stop. She continued to run to the carriage, pushing Edward's arms out of the way as he tried to stop her.

'Annette, no.' He shouted.

But it was already too late.

She had reached the carriage door, and was able to see through the window to what was inside.

No one was sat on the seats. No one was there, ready to greet her.

Instead, there lay a large cloth on the floor.

A cloth, in the shape of a man.

A corpse.

She was looking at a corpse.

'No.' She breathed, her movement's stilling.

'I'm very sorry m'lady.' Said one of the guards. She didn't know which one.

'No.' She repeated.

'No, no no no.' Again and again she repeated the words, each one getting louder in volume, each one, breaking her heart just a little more.

Her hands shook, her throat tightened. She couldn't breathe.

'NO!' She cried, reaching forward to open the door, to shake her father awake, like she had done many times before when he had passed out.

That's all this was. He was just asleep under the cloth. He was going to wake up. He was going to be fine.

Edward stopped her from opening the door, and she tried to fight him off, screaming 'No.' at the top of her lungs.

And then, the sobs came. Great rasping sobs that wracked her chest as the truth of it finally settled in her.

Her father was gone. He was dead.

'No!' She sobbed, as Edward held her, stroking her hair as she screamed.

'Why?' She asked, looking up to her husband.

Edward took a deep breath.

'When the mirror took its price, he had to endure a large amount of pain. His heart wasn't strong enough to endure it.' He explained.

Annette shook her head, sobbing as she did, tears streaming down her face and splashing onto her dress, onto Edward's jacket.

'But, we got the name.' Edward told her, in some vain attempt to try and lift her spirits.

Annette hardly heard him over the sound of her heart breaking as she came to terms with the loss of her father.

He was gone. The father who had really loved her, had wanted to change for her, was gone.

And he was never coming back.

* * *

Late that night, when the moon was high in the sky, Annette stood by the window of her bedroom, and stared out into the darkness. Her tears had long since ceased, but she had been unable to sleep.

Edward lay asleep in their bed, peaceful and dreaming.

But Annette couldn't sleep.

Once the despair had stopped, there was only one emotion remaining. And it consumed her entire being.

Hate.

Pure and utter hate.

She hated that Faerie. She wanted him dead. He had done this; he had taken her father from her. If he hadn't appeared that day in the forest, then none of this would have ever happened. She would never had made the bargain, her son would not be in danger, and her father would have still been alive.

It was all the faeries fault, and she wanted him to pay for it. He had threatened her son and killed her father.

She wanted him dead at her feet.

Gone was the sweet and forgiving manner she'd always had. Gone was any pity she had felt for him that day when he had looked so upset.

She wanted him to pay.

'Annette?' Edward mumbled sleepily, blinking as he found her standing away from their bed.

'There's been a change of plans.' She informed him.

'Can this not wait until morning?'

'No. I want justice. I want him to pay.' She said.

Edward sat up in bed, and rubbed the last of sleep from his eyes.

'He threatened Henry, and now he killed my father. He deserves to die.'

'Annette, don't.' Edward said, softly.

She snapped her head around to face him

He only moved so he was stood next to her, his arms wrapping around her waist.

'Don't do this because of hate. You are too good for that.'

'He killed him!' She cried.

'Yes, he did. But you are good and kind. And I know that once all this hate dies down, you will never forgive yourself if you do this.'

'But he should die!'

'I know.' Edward told her. 'But if you do it for hate, then you will regret it. I want him dead as much as you do.'

Annette thought she would burst into tears again, when Edward suddenly pulled back, his brow crinkling.

'What if… What about…' He muttered.

'What?'

'Those other people, the ones he had also cursed?' Edward said, looking around for a dressing gown.

Annette was still very confused.

'In that letter, the one you remembered earlier. There was something about breaking curses and bargains.'

Annette stood stunned for a minute, before reaching for her own dressing gown and following Edward as he ran down to his study. Some of the guards jumped back in surprise as they saw their lord and lady running around the corridors in the dead of night. One of them lit a candle for them, and followed them into the study as Edward shouted an order to them.

He pulled out the letter that woman Marion had written, and scanned it furiously.

'Ah, here it is.'

 _'_ _Faeries have the ability to curse people. Some can transform humans into animals or objects, some create visions, some can confine humans. But it is only the ruling faeries who can modify a curse once it has been cast. Curses are issued, but always have a condition which will lead to the end of the curse. The only way to end faerie curses is to complete the task the faerie set the human, to have the fae who cast it to withdraw it, or the death of the faerie. However, there is one exception to this rule. For one curse in the faerie's lifetime, they can bind their magic to a curse. If this happens, then even faerie's death will not release the human from the curse. The only way to lift it would be by completing the task that the faerie had set initially. '_

Edward looked up to Annette.

'What if we do kill him. Not for us, but for all those who are cursed?' He asked.

Annette still didn't quite understand.

'Don't you see? This faerie has ruined more lives than we know. This woman in certainly under a curse, and who knows how many others. What if the only way to break their curse is to kill him? We could help them, free them!' He explained.

Annette's heart stumbled a beat.

They could do it. When the faerie arrived in the morning, they could kill him, and not only bring justice for her father's death, but also help free countless other innocent people who were under his curses.

And so, she nodded to her husband.

'So, let us do it.' She told him.

Edward nodded solemnly and called in more guards.

In the dead of night, only hours before he was due to arrive at the castle, the Lord and Lady made plans to bring down the cause of all their misery.

* * *

The final morning dawned warm and bright. The heat was almost stifling. Annette had chosen her thinnest dress to help her against the heat, but it didn't do very much. She was already nervous and shaking, and the night of no sleep hadn't helped her in the slightest.

Only a few more hours, she thought, until Henry will be home and she could hold her son in her arms again. These last few days had been torture for her, to be so far away from him.

But that was now all at an end. They had his name, his true name. And even if that didn't work, he would be dead and the bargain would be at an end.

She wanted to feel happy. She wanted to feel joyful that it was all going to be at an end in just a few short hours. But she couldn't be.

Her father was dead. The reality of it still hadn't quite sunk in. She was still hurt and grieving, and newly orphaned. Her heart still bled for her father. He had only just turned himself around, only just decided he wanted to be a better man, a better father and grandfather. And now, he was never going to get the chance to prove himself to her.

He had died, still thinking that she would never forgive him for what he had done.

And she regretted that more than anything.

He had died for her. He had died to ensure her son's safety. There was no possible way she could ever repay him for that. He had earned her forgiveness a hundred times over.

But he was never going to hear her say those words to him. She was never going to tell him that she loved him again. He was never going to see his grandson grow up.

And that thought broke Annette's heart.

She had tied her hair back with a black ribbon, the only sign of mourning she had. As she hadn't had to deal with death since she was married, she didn't have a black dress for such occasions as this. So the black silk around her hair would have to do.

Edward stood at the front of the ballroom, with Annette at his side. Guards were placed all around, many of them with concealed daggers and weapons.

They had a plan. The faerie was not going to leave the castle alive. He had done too much to them, he deserved this. Annette had never been more sure of anything in her life.

Midday came and went, and there was no sign of the faerie. He usually arrived at noon on the dot.

But not that day.

The guards looked to each other, unsure as to what their orders were. They had been told to expect him at noon. Some of them were grumbling that he was not coming. Edward simply told them to hold their positions, and wait.

Annette's heart thundered the entire time. She was almost shaking with fear. Even though they had a plan in place, it still could go wrong. As had proven with her father the day before.

And so, they all waited in silence. Ready to see if he would show his face or not.

After an hour, he did.

The loud familiar echoing footsteps made their way slowly down the corridor, each one making Annette flinch. The air was buzzing with anticipation as the guards all prepared themselves.

Then, the doors flew open, hitting the walls with an almighty crash.

He stood before them, in the same dark brown robes as he had always done. His familiar long knotted beard hung down to almost his stomach.

The faerie stepped forward, not even glancing at the many guards who lined the walls of the room. His gaze was fixed solely on Annette as he strode towards her. She grasped Edward's hand, clinging to it tightly as he approached.

The faerie stopped right before her, only several feet away.

'Last chance.' He told her. 'You have one more guess.'

Annette trembled, and tried to clear her throat.

'I wonder how it would feel,' The faerie mused. 'To lose both a son and a father within a few hours.'

Annette felt the blood leave her face. No, no, she wouldn't even consider it.

Edward only squeezed her hand tighter in response, as if to remind her that it wasn't going to happen. They had his name, they were going to win.

Annette tried to summon all her courage, to get herself to say that word. That one word that would free her son. But her throat ran dry.

'Or, you could just give the child to me right now, and save yourself all the trouble and humiliation.' He taunted.

'Never.' Edward snarled.

'I'm waiting.' The faerie said, almost looking impatient.

Annette took a deep breath, and then stared into the faerie's eyes. This was the creature that was responsible for her father's death, for terrorising her, for almost stealing her child. He needed to pay for what he had done.

The words rose up in her throat, and this time, she didn't hold it back.

'I name you,' She told him, holding his gaze, and smiling in victory.

'Rumpelstiltskin.'

No one moved.

No one reacted.

It was as if the entire world held its breath. Moments passed, and Annette felt her confidence slipping through her fingers like sand.

What if it was the wrong name? What if the guard had heard it wrong? What is her father had asked the wrong question?

And then, finally, the Faerie nodded.

'Yes.' He said simply.

That was the signal, the ones the guards had been waiting for.

At his words, half of them stepped forward, pulling out their hidden daggers, and running towards him. The others moved to guard the door, making sure he had no way of escaping.

Annette's heart froze with anticipation as she watched the men charge at the faerie.

But then, golden light erupted from his being, pushing them all backwards, and lifting some of them into the air. Crashing back down, the guards hit the floor hard, and blood ran down their faces, their noses and arms.

Annette almost screamed, as the faerie whirled back around, his eyes flaring a horrid shade of red. He looked murderous.

Edward did not stumble a beat, as he too pulled out a dagger that he had hidden underneath his tunic and tried to run at the faerie.

But the faerie was prepared for him, and he wrapped a golden string of magic firmly around Edward, lifting him up, to crash him against the wall, the dagger falling out of his hand and clattering on the floor by Annette's feet.

At that, she did scream.

The faerie turned back to the other guards who were now all blocking his exit. His red eyes still glowing, and his expression changed to one of pure and utter determination. He stepped towards the huddled guards and lifted his hands slowly.

Annette knew what he was about to do. He was going to clear them out of the way in any way possible. Edward slumped onto the floor behind her, but her gaze was drawn to the object now laying at her feet.

Edward's dagger.

It glistened and gleamed, the jewelled handle almost shining in the early afternoon sun.

The faerie took another step towards the men. There was nothing they could do against his magic. Their weapons would be useless. He was going to get away; he was going to live.

And Annette couldn't stand for that.

This monster had killed her father. He was gone, forever, because of him. Annette was never going to reconcile with him, never going to introduce her son to him, never going to look after him in his old age.

He was gone.

And her son would never truly be safe while the faerie lived. If he tried to steal him now, who knows when he might try again.

Her baby boy, her beautiful son. Edward's heir. She would never, ever let anyone harm him, not ever again. She would sacrifice whatever she had to keep him safe.

Almost in a trance, Annette reached down and wrapped her finger's around the hilt of Edward's jewelled dagger. Its owner groaned in pain behind her, but she didn't look back. It felt heavier than she thought it would be, the weight of it in her hand felt a little unbalanced.

She stood up, closing her hand tightly around it. Her long blonde hair streamed behind her as she took a step forward, and then another, and then another.

The faerie lifted his arms high in the air, and many of the guards were showing the true amount of terror they felt.

Annette didn't think. The only urge that pushed her on was the overwhelming sense that this was the only way.

The faerie didn't turn around as Annette finally caught up to him, her feet planting on the wooden floor directly behind him

And then, Annette raised her hand.

And drove the dagger through his skin.

The faerie screamed as she pushed it forward, tearing muscle and flesh. Blood poured out, staining those horrid old robes. The red began to seep through the fabric, spreading and growing with each passing second.

He still screamed in pain, but not surprise. His arms instantly lowered, and the red from his eyes vanished, leaving only terrified golden eyes in their wake.

And yet Annette kept pushing. Deeper and deeper into his body, through things she didn't want to know about.

That monster had caused her father's death. He deserved every moment of this pain, the pain she was going to feel for the rest of her life. The terror that was always going to remain as she would fear that someone would try and take Henry from her again. The agony of the past few weeks, he deserved to feel all of it.

And so, Annette kept pushing until the faerie fell to his knees.

Edward slowly pushed himself off the ground, as did several of the other guards, all watching as their lady drove the dagger deeper and deeper into the faerie's back.

He was panting now, his mouth wide from the scream he had just sounded.

Annette's hand still held the dagger tightly, as she stopped pushing it forward, and pulled it back, the blade scrapping against tissue and muscles and flesh. The faerie groaned in pain as it left his body, causing him to slump forward. Blood poured out of the open wound, dripping slowly to the floor as Annette realised what she had done. Large red drops of blood ran down the blade of the dagger like rivers of death, over the jewelled handle, blocking out the gems bright glow and splashed onto the sleeve of her dress, onto her hands.

Annette watched in horror as her hands became more slick with the faerie's blood.

The dagger clattered to the floor as Annette's hands shook, releasing it from her fingers.

The faerie was still groaning in pain, almost collapsed on the floor.

Edward limped over to where Annette stood, staring at her blood coated hands. He tried to reach her, but she instinctively stepped away.

'Annette.' Came the wet rasping sound that was the faerie's voice.

Annette froze.

What could he possibly want with her now?

Her heart hammered inside her chest, and her stomach twisted and churned at the sight of the blood now staining the wooden floor.

'Let me see you.' The faerie demanded, the pain obvious with each word. He took several deep rasping breaths; his hands were curled tightly into fists.

In a daze, Annette stepped around the faerie, until she was facing the sorry wretch.

All the guards and her husband watched in silence as Annette faced the creature that was responsible for all her suffering.

The faerie slowly lifted his head. His sad and pained golden eyes met her, and Annette thought she was going to be sick. She had done this, she had wounded him, she had caused this much pain.

'This...' He breathed. 'Was meant to be.'

Panting a few more breaths, he started to sway a little.

'I knew this, when I sought you out in the forest…Not your fault.'

He groaned in pain as his arm gave way beneath him, and he fell forward a bit.

'I have worked…'. He uttered.

'My…entire…life…'

Several more pants.

'Nearly everything…is in place.'

He closed his eyes and whimpered.

'If you…ever meet…Weston.' He said through gritted teeth. 'Tell him, I'm…sorry…for the way it happened… But it was needed.'

'Who is Weston?' Annette managed to ask. Her thoughts were in turmoil. He knew she was going to kill him, and came regardless. And even now, as he was dying, he didn't hate her, didn't loath her for sticking a dagger in his back.

The faerie managed to turn to corner of his mouth upwards, just slightly.

'You'll remember. One day.' Was his only reply.

He took several more breaths, but each was shorter than the one before.

'The Browns… are in place... What will be…will be.'

Annette felt tears form in her eyes. For the pitiful creature before her, for her own broken soul, for her son who was finally free.

'I'm sorry… for those servants…who must still suffer.' He breathed.

Then, he finally lifted his head. His golden eyes were fixed solely on Annette, his killer.

'But…everyone else…'

One more rasping wet breath.

'Is…free.'

And with that, he slumped forwards, his arms completely giving way as his head hit the wooden floor with a resounding crack.

More blood began to leak from him, only adding to the already growing puddle.

Annette stood frozen for a moment.

And then, it happened.

The air around them responded to his death.

Like a silent wave, the air began to tremble slightly. They could all feel it rather than see it.

Then, like a mighty boom, the tremor started. It pushed through them, shaking each of them to their very core. It moved through the room at a speed unlike anything Annette has known.

Even the glass in the windows seemed to rattled from the force of it. The breath in Annette's lungs ran from it as her heart pounded.

And then, it was gone, moving out of the room in all directions, as if it would cover the entire earth and leave only emptiness in its wake.

A tiny spark of light floated just above the fresh corpse of the faerie. It glimmered and shone, but was only as large as a drop of water.

Then another joined it, and another, and another. All of this tiny drops of magic accumulate around the dead faerie, some landing on his skin, other floating around in the air.

Annette held her breath as she watched the golden magic grow and grow, ever larger, until it covered his entire body. The light was almost blinding as it shielded the faerie from view. And yet, Annette could not look away.

Larger and larger, the mass of magic grew, until it finally all bound together in a floating glowing ball. The faerie's body was nowhere to be seen.

Suddenly, without warning, it lifted into the air, flying just above Annette's head, and soaring right past her. It crashed into the wall of the castle, pushing through the stone. Small piece of rubble went flying, and Annette had to turned away to shield herself from flying rocks and dust.

But by the time the noise had stopped and she looked back.

It was gone.

Only a large hole remained in the wall, the dust still settling around it. But it led right to the outside world, the bright sunlight streaming through the gap.

Annette blinked.

It was over.

He was dead.

Her son was safe.

And Annette was a murderer.

'Where did it go?' Asked one of the guards, more to himself than to anyone else.

'What direction is that?' Asked Edward. 'Where was it going?'

Annette heard all of this, but it was like it was through a veil. None of it seemed real. Or she didn't seem real.

'South east, sir.' Came the voice of another guard.

Annette couldn't focus on it though.

Murderer.

 _Murderer._

She had killed him.

His blood still coated her hands.

'Someone get me a map.' Edward commanded. 'I want to know where it went.'

Annette slowly looked down, the slippery red blood was causing her sleeves to stick to her wrists. Her hands felt foreign, as drops of blood fell off them.

Her head spun. Killer.

Murderer.

Nausea swept through her body.

She was going to be sick.

The blood still dripped off her hands.

Shaking, Annette bent over double and fell to her knees.

'Annette!' Edward cried.

She wretched, but nothing came out. She hadn't eaten anything since she had heard that her father had died, so there was nothing left for her to heave up.

Edward was instantly by her side, his hand on her back, pulling her hair out of the way. He was completely ready to have her be sick all over the floor, if she needed to.

She wretched again, and this time, bile flew out of her mouth.

Tears stung her eyes, and she had to blink to clear her vision.

But when she looked down. She saw her sick mix with the blood of the faerie that had remained when his body had vanished.

And so, she wretched again.

Murderer. She had murdered him. He was dead because of her.

When she could breathe again, she opened her mouth and screamed.

Edward held her, as her screams turned to sobs, as she slowly came to terms with what she had just done. What she had done to save her son.

What monster she had become.

She screamed for the guilt she felt, for her shattered innocence and peace of mind.

She was forever changed.

There was no going back.

And so, she screamed.

* * *

That evening, both Annette and Edward sat in the carriage as it sped hastily along the path.

The box had been opened, the location had been revealed. And neither of them had wanted to wait another second.

The carriage rattled, as Annette and Edward sat in silence, on their way to retrieve their son.

Their son, who was now safe from harm.

In the aftermath of the Faerie's death and disappearance, Annette had sat on the floor, simply trying to come to terms with what had happened. Edward had stayed with her until one of the guards had brought him a map. He had laid it out on the floor and sat with some of the other guards, trying to work out where the faerie's body had gone. They're weren't going to chase it, but Edward though they should know where it had gone, just incase.

However, nothing lay directly south east of their castle. Only forest.

There was only one village that come close to the direction the golden light had flown off in. A village called Milton. If the light had continued in a straight line from the castle, it would have skimmed the edge of Milton. But no one knew why it would have gone there. There was nothing else for miles

Annette's mind was still reeling for what she had done. She'd only stopped crying long enough to go and get the box with their son's location Now, she just felt numb.

She had killed him. Killed the faerie in cold blood. His blood had coated her hands, and she never thought they would be clean again.

'Darling?' Edward asked.

Annette snapped out of her daze.

'What?'

'You're shaking.'

Annette looked down and saw her hands were shaking.

'He's going to be perfectly alright. My mother knows what she's doing with babies.'

Annette didn't laugh. Or even react.

'Henry will be fine.' He told her.

'I'm not worried about Henry!' She shouted, not looking her husband in the eye.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him flinch.

Her throat tightened.

'Annette.' He said calmly.

She didn't look up.

Edward moved his hand so it covered hers. She jerked it away out of his reach.

'Annette please.' He pleaded.

'No.' She cried.

'Why? What did I do?'

'It's not you.' She snapped.

'Then what-'

'I killed him!' She cried. 'I can't… I shouldn't…'

Tears collected in her eyes again.

'I don't deserve your love anymore. Or you.'

'Annette!'

'I'm a monster.'

'Stop this now!'

'I killed him!'

'Yes! You killed him.' Edward shouted. 'But you did it to save our son. You did it to protect our baby. That doesn't make you a monster, that makes you a mother.'

At that, Annette did look up to him.

He simply smiled sadly at her.

'I don't think I know a single woman alive who wouldn't have done something like that to save their child. And I know that if I had been able to, I would have been the one to drive that dagger through his heart. I would have done it to protect Henry, to protect you, just as you did.'

The tears started to spill down her cheeks.

'And he said himself, it's not your fault. You were always meant to kill him. It was your fate, there was no way to avoid it. So you are no monster Annette. You are my wife, who is more worthy of my love now than you ever were. And you have it, forever.'

More sobs began to wrack her chest as Edward's words pierced her heart.

So, he opened his arms and folded Annette into them as she wept. And this time, she didn't pull away.

'I know this won't be easy, and it will take a long time to forgive yourself. Things will not instantly go back to the way they were before. But Annette, we will get past this, you will get past this. For Henry. For me.' He told her, pressing a kiss to her blonde hair.

Annette just continued to sob in her husband's arms.

And then, finally, the carriage pulled to a stop.

It took them a few moments to register where they were. A guard opened the carriage door, to reveal a quaint manor house, surrounded on all sides by forest, with windows open to let in the early evening breeze.

Annette was frozen for a moment, before Edward loosened his arms around her.

'Let's go and get our son back.' He said.

He was here. Her baby boy was somewhere here.

Annette didn't think. She simply moved. Scrambling out of the carriage, she almost ran to the front door, not bothering to knock.

'Mary?' She cried, running into the small entrance hall. Edward's footsteps told her that he was right behind her.

'Mother?' Edward shouted, looking in the room to his right.

'Shh!' Came a loud whisper from the top of the stairs. Both of them looked up to see Edward's mother, Lady Mary stood at the top of the staircase, her hands on her hips.

'I just put him down.'

A small cry came from the room behind her. A sound that went right through Annette's heart.

Henry's cry.

His tiny lungs were trying to scream, to make as much sound as possible. It made her heart want to bleed.

Her legs moved as her throat tightened. She rather rudely pushed past Lady Mary as she ran up the stairs, towards the sound of her new born son.

She wrenched the door to one side and flung herself into the room.

Her vision narrowed on the crib at the edge of the room. And to the little tiny person writhing in the sheet.

Henry.

Her baby boy.

Safe and sound in his crib.

Crying for his mother.

She leant over him, watching his beautiful face scrunch up as he cried, his tiny fists flailing around his head.

'Shhh.' She whispered kindly to him, reaching down to stroke a finger over his cheek.

At that, Henry opened his eyes to look at her, and her knees nearly buckled.

His beautiful brown eyes, her brown eyes.

Her father's brown eyes stared back at her.

Henry continued to cry, and Annette felt her own tears spill down her face.

'Shhh Henry. I'm here now. Your mama is back.' She sobbed as gently stroked the soft brown hair he had been born with.

'There you are.' Came Edwards voice, and she looked up to see him on the other side of the crib, staring down at their son.

Henry's gaze moved from her to Edward, but he still continued to cry.

'We're back now. Your mother was so incredibly brave. She saved you, did you know that?' He whispered to his son. 'So don't you dare be ungrateful when you grow up!'

Annette huffed a laugh through her tears.

'I think he wants you.' Edward told her, looking up to her.

'I don't think…'

'Yes you can. You saved him. So don't tell me that you're not worthy or something like that Annette. He's our baby. And right now, he needs his mother.'

Annette stood stunned for a moment. But then Henry's cried increased, and both of them looked down to him.

Slowly, with slightly shaking hands, she reached down into the crib and placed her arms around her son.

He was so tiny and light as he bawled. She lifted him carefully into her arms and rocked him slightly.

'Shh.' She cooed to him.

At that Henry did stop crying and look up at his mother.

'Hello there.' She whispered.

Edward moved around from the crib to stand behind the two of them, and placed his arm on Annette's shoulder.

'I love you. Both of you.' He told them.

Annette nodded, her gaze fixed solely on her son.

And as she looked at his face, she knew it had all been worth it. To have him safely back in her arms had been worth the cost.

Edward had been right. She wouldn't forgive herself for it for a long time, and she still felt unjustly guilty. But she knew that someday, she would be able to prove to herself that it had all been worth it.

Her son had been worth it. Her family had been worth it.

And one day, all would be well again.

'I love you too.' She replied, surrounded by the two people who mattered the most.

Her family.


	14. Alexander

**Spoiler Alert; Please read the end of A Heroine's Resolution before reading this. Major spoilers for the ending ahead.**

Alexander 

Alexander Brown was many things. He was an older brother to six siblings, and a younger brother to one sister. He had been a son, before both of his parents had sadly died, and most recently, he had been a brother in law, but he too had passed away.

But in all his life, never before, had he ever been in love.

A lover was something he had never considered before. He knew that probably one day, he would find a pretty girl who he quite liked, would probably fall for her slowly, and then settle down with her.

He had never once expected this.

Love had completely torn through his heart like nothing he had ever known or experienced. It was somehow the greatest sensation in the world, and the most terrible.

He had met her only once, but that was all it had taken.

In fact, it had taken considerably less than that. As soon as she had entered the Ball room that fateful night, she had captured his attention completely.

And also his heart.

He wasn't exactly sure what it had been about her that had called him to her, but that didn't matter. It was probably a combination of everything.

Her vibrant red hair, her beautiful features, her kind eyes. And the way she had shyly hidden at the back of the group, not wishing to be noticed, when it was obvious to anyone who had a brain that she was the most beautiful girl in the room.

Or at least, Alexander thought so.

But it was more than that. He was quite sure that something had pulled him around to look at her, to catch her eye that very first time. He couldn't explain it, not even if he tried.

There had definitely something that had made him turn to see her. Something more than himself.

Something like... fate.

And when he spoke to her... it was as if everything had fallen into place. They just fit. Their conversation, their personalities, their thoughts and hopes and dreams.

She was the most wonderful person to ever walk the earth.

Of course, she wasn't, but nothing would deter Alexander from thinking that.

The night they had met had been so perfect. In all but one detail.

It had also been the night that had completely altered his life forever. Or at least, his sister's life.

For at that Ball, his brother in law had caught the fever, and painfully succumbed to it. Alexander had been left to care for his grieving sister, who had just lost the love of her life, and his own unhappiness.

And he had tried. He had done everything within his power to make it easier on Marion. He had organised the funeral for her, had contacted the guests. He had arranged the details with the physician and the local undertaker.

But none of it made him feel any better. He too had lost a good friend.

Alexander hadn't always liked James. In fact, he had almost outright hated him initially, when he had tried to shoot down their cursed sister, thinking her a swan. But, over the months, Alexander had seen that his sister was falling madly in love with him, and they were going to be inevitable. He just hadn't expected it to be quite so soon. After only 3 days of courting, Marion had announced their engagement, out of necessity, and they were married that very night.

And she had been happy, especially once the curse had broken. Even a blind man could see it.

Which is why it was all the more horrible when he succumbed.

James had really grown on him, and Alexander had almost come to think on him like another brother. The older brother he'd never had. Someone else to carry the burden of looking after everyone, someone to look up to.

So, Alexander was heartbroken too when he died. More than he let anyone see. He had to be strong, for his family, and especially for Marion. His sister had suffered enough. Far too much.

And in truth, he also felt guilty.

Because if anyone had asked him, if he would have traded knowing Scarlett for James's life, if they had never gone to the ball, Alexander wasn't so sure he knew the answer.

Scarlett was quite simply, the best thing that has ever happened to him. Even though he'd only met her once.

Which was why, almost two months later, he was terrified to see her again. He's thought about her almost constantly, and wondered most of the time if she had ever thought about him.

But, due to the weeks of grieving and the abrupt move back to their home village, he hadn't been able to contact her. At all.

It was something that preyed on his mind, that she would think ill of him after such a wonderful night, and then he hadn't tried to write or visit. Maybe she thought he hadn't cared, even though that couldn't be further from the truth. Alexander was terrified that he had offended her, or had lost her favour, or that she'd never want to speak to him again. He didn't know how he could bear it if she never spoke to him again.

Which was why love was the greatest and most terrible feeling of all.

Not only was he terrified that he had offended her, he was also heartbroken from missing her.

Every single day without fail, he had thought of her. He longed to see her again, but knew he wouldn't be able to, and didn't know when he could see her.

Until now.

Now, he'd finally had enough.

He couldn't take it anymore, the separation, the not knowing.

And so, Alexander had done what could have been the single most mad thing he had ever done in his life.

Run away from home to save his new love.

He hadn't actually run away. If fact, most of his family knew he was going. Apart from his older sister; who he had told that he was going to sort some final business matters out with James's old tennants. But that clearly wasn't his destination. Alexander knew his sister suspected that he had been lying, however she hardly thought about anything other than her grief at the moment, so let the subject go.

But the fact hadn't changed, that he had left his family behind to go and find Scarlett. He of course hadn't abandoned his family, he would never do that. He was fully planning on going back, once he had seen her.

He just needed to see her. He needed to know that she was alright, and he needed to know where they stood.

The silence between them was deafening, and it couldn't continue.

So, two days after leaving Rault, Alexander had found himself pacing the path that led down to be Duchess's Palace. Every time a carriage or cart drove by, he immediately dashed out of sight, in case someone recognised him from the ball. He had no desire to get Scarlett into more trouble that she was undoubtedly in, and he also had no wish to become the court gossip.

After several hours of trying to get his courage up, he finally took a deep breath and headed into the forest. To the one group of beings that would help him no matter what.

Feeling like a complete idiot, Alexander tilted his head up to the tops of the surrounding trees and cried

'Please tell Scarlett, that Alexander is waiting in the clearing to the east of the palace.'

The echoing of bird songs was the only response Alexander got, as he perched himself on a nearby log, and waited

And waited.

And waited some more.

Every moment was torture. Every second has passed only served to increase his nervousness. He was terrified to see her again after so long, but he was also terrified not to see her again.

What if she refused to come. What if she decided that Alexander's silence for all this time was reason to justify not meeting him.

He was terrified for either outcome, and he hated it. How was it possible for someone to be scared of both of the only two outcomes of this situation?

But, here he was. Pacing between trees, waiting to see how it would all play out.

And the waiting was killing him.

Again and again he paced, trying desperately to think of something to say, anything to say to her. But even the word 'Hello' seemed to have escaped him.

What could he possibly say to her? Did he apologise for not coming sooner? Or not writing? Did he explain about James? Could he ask her how she was faring?

A small snap behind him made him whirl around quickly, his heart racing.

And when his eyes fixed on the cause of he noise...

Disappointment.

For it was only a bird. Hopping along the ground.

Alexander's stomach dropped as he watched the little bird, happily jumping around. If only he could be so free. If only the anxiety he was feeling would go away.

'It is you.' Came a quiet voice from behind him.

Alexander froze at the new, but yet familiar sound.

Turning around slowly, his lips curled into a wide smile as he beheld a beautiful red haired girl standing next to an oak tree.

She was just had he had remembered. Those beautiful kind hazel eyes, the defined shape of her face and those red lip he wished... he wished...

Even though he knew exactly how to finish that sentence, he didn't want to admit it. He'd only ever met this girl once before, and finally, here she was. It was not the time to be thinking of such things.

'Scarlett... I...how are...I mean...' Alexander stumbled. An complete phrase seemed beyond him.

But, to his credit, his heart was hammering so hard against his chest, he thought that it would burst out an moment. It was almost impossible for him to think much further beyond that.

She was here.

Really here. Right in front of him.

She had come when he had asked her to.

He couldn't quite believe his good luck.

'You asked to see me?' She asked him, clearly working out that words were far beyond him at the moment.

Alexander nodded, dazed by the angel stood before him.

'Yes.' He breathed. 'I...I just... I just had to see you again.'

Scarlett blushed a little, and her gaze fell to the ground. Alexander thought it was one of the most beautiful sights he had ever seen. He'd never made a girl blush before. In the nineteen years he'd been alive, he'd never wanted to make a girl blush before.

'I'm sorry.' He started, taking a small step towards her. 'That I didn't write. Things at home have been... a little difficult.'

Scarlett met his gaze with a worried look.

'How so?' She asked.

Alexander sighed.

'Arry's husband died, and we were thrown out of his house by his heir.' He explained, having to take a deep breath to calm himself at the memory. This injustice of it was just too cruel.

Scarlett gasped.

'Oh, I'm so sorry. I had no idea. I did wonder... if... if maybe...'

Her hands began to twist the fabric at the front of her dress, out of what appeared to be nervousness.

'If?' Alexander pressed.

'If you had... forgotten about me. But I see now that... that it was selfish of me to assume...how could I expect... when your brother in law. Oh, how awful it must have been.' She cried.

'Never.' Alexander breathed. 'I would never forget you.'

Boldly he took another small step towards her, and almost shouted in delight when he saw her do he same.

'I didn't write because I've been so busy with funeral arrangements, and looking after Arry, and trying to work out exactly what was in his will. Poor Arry will hardly leave her room. And then there's the matter of our houseguest.' Alexander explained.

'House guest? Who on earth would possibly intervene at a time like this? How could they?' Scarlett cried.

'Well, actually, she's been helping to look after Arry. There was a rather nasty argument with one of Arry's old friends and she helped her through it.'

'So, she's a friend, but still imposing on a grieving family.' Scarlett argued.

'I don't know where she learned her manners from, since you had the same upbringing and you are far more polite than she is.' Alexander said cryptically.

It took Scarlett a few moments to comprehend what he just said, but when she did, her face lit up with joy.

'Bianca! Bianca's staying with you? She's safe?'

Alexander grinned and nodded.

'Yes, perfectly safe, as long as she only leaves the house at night. But she has been the most tremendous help with Arry. She seems to depend on her.'

'Why hasn't she contacted me?' Scarlett asked. 'Did she not want to come with you, to see me?'

Alexander shook his head.

'She doesn't know. No one does. But I think they strongly suspect. And Bianca isn't there at the moment. She disappears for a few days at a time to play Robin Hood, and then returns to help Marion. So, she doesn't even know I'm gone.'

Scarlett's face fell a little.

'Could you ask her next time? To come and see me? I just want to see her again. It's been over four years, I thought she was dead. I'm her sister, how could she possibly do this...'

Alexander turned away a little.

'Shall i just go then? I'll find Bianca and send her instead.'

'No!' Scarlett cried, instinctively reaching for him. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I just... I only meant... She's... And you are...'

Alexander heart began to hammer again as he asked 'I'm what?'

Scarlett appeared to bite the inside of her cheek, as she searched for the words.

Several moments passed, and Scarlett still failed to find an answer to his question.

Alexander could sense her building wish to move on to another topic, so he obliged her.

'How are you? How have things been at the palace?' He asked gently.

Scarlett looked more than a little relieved when he said this and her smile perked up.

'The same as ever. Nerissa is horrid, the ladies are all snakes in disguise and the lords all try to sniff me out to be their bride.'

Alexander could have sworn he felt his stomach drop the moment she said bride.

Was there someone else? Could Scarlett have formed another attachment? Of course he wasn't the first person to fall under her charms! She was everything every man looked for in a love. Beautiful, intelligent, caring, lovely.

Scarlett's eyes went wide when she beheld Alexander's face, and she seemed to realise what he was thinking.

'No! I don't mean...No! Nothing on my side, I promise you. It's just, because of my father, and my role...the lords of the court hound me.'

Understanding coursed though Alexander. He cursed himself for being an idiot for not following her meaning.

She was the daughter of a Duke, and the stepdaughter of a Duchess. She was the heir apparent, since Bianca ran away, and therefore one of the most eligible maidens in the country. However married her would be the future Duke, with all that money and power. Of course the lords of the court hounded after her, with that impressive dowry behind her.

'Oh.' Was his only response.

'I hate it.' She admitted. 'I absolutely hate it. They try and get me alone in corridors, and grab my hand when I'm in the audience chamber, and sometimes they find a way to knock at my door at night. I have to sleep with a maid, just to keep the fear at bay.'

Anger was rising in Alexander with every passing moment.

How dare these men treat her so? She was an angel amongst them, and they were chasing her like she was a piece of meat, for the taking. The whole idea of it made him sick.

'I wish I was more like Bianca.' Scarlett commented wistfully. 'She always made it clear she never would care for any of them, so they never bothered her. But me... I just can't seem to... they don't understand... I'm just too shy to say anything against them.'

Alexander took another small step towards her. They were now only a matter of inches from each other, within touching distance.

'That's abominable.' Alexander ground out through his teeth. 'How dare they... treat you so... is there no one who could stop it?'

The whole thing made him full of rage. He wanted to hunt down those men who would dare lay a finger on Scarlett and... and...

'Nerissa could, if she wanted to. But she would never. Sometimes, I think they are sent from her, to try and drive me away. She got rid of Bianca, and I think she wants rid of me too.'

Alexander rage turned to fear.

'Rid of you? How? She almost killed Bianca!' He cried.

Scarlett shrugged her shoulders, and glanced down to the ground.

'I don't know. I think even she knows that getting rid of two stepdaughters in the same way would look suspicious. I think... she means to marry me off to some horrid man who will keep me locked away somewhere for the rest of my life. Somewhere I couldn't lay claim to my father's title.'

Alexander's heart was to full of emotions now. They were raging and boiling within him like a storm.

'No!' He uttered.

'What?' She asked.

'No, she can't do that to you! She just can't. You should be free to... to...'

Once again, Alexander knew exactly how he wanted to finish that sentence, but was to scared of Scarlett's response to actually say it out loud.

'Free to what?' She asked persistently.

'Free to... to... follow you heart... as to who you marry.' He admitted softly.

Scarlett's eyes widened when she heard him say that, and a small amount of pink stained her cheeks.

Alexander wanted nothing more than to preserve that beautiful sight forever.

'I wish to be.' She said quietly. 'I wish it more than anything.'

And with that, she met his gaze, and Alexander's heart stopped.

It was as if the whole world had stopped rotating. He hardly thought he was breathing. He didn't think time was still moving.

'But I know I can't be.' She admitted, finally breaking away from his gaze. Alexander's heart stumbled a beat at hearing this.

'Why?' He begged, trying to keep his voice steady. 'Why can't you be free?'

'Because I know... I know that any man after me... isn't after my heart. They will always be after the money and title. No one would ever love me for me.'

'That's not true.' Alexander said immediately, without hesitation, startling Scarlett a little.

She waited for him to continue, but he found himself once again at a loss for words.

He wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell her more than anything that she was the most incredible woman he had ever met, and would gladly give his heart to her without thought of money or power. But after only one meeting with her, he didn't want to scare her away.

So, he bit his tongue and remained quiet.

Although neither of them knew it, they were both waiting anxiously for the other one to admit something. To give something away as to how they were feeling. How anyone would feel in this situation. But they were both are oblivious as each other to the thing that was staring them both directly in the face.

After several moments of neither of them speaking, they both became a little uncomfortable. They didn't know how to continue, or what really to say.

'So, how did it happen?' Scarlett asked tentatively.

'What happen?'

'Your brother in law. You said he died. How?'

Alexander took a slow breath at the mention of James, and all the memories and emotions that came flooding back.

Two months had passed, and it still hadn't become any easier. He had lost a good friend, a teacher and mentor, and also a companion. And while his loss would never compare to his sisters, it still hurt like hell whenever he was mentioned.

Alexander had wept at his funeral, as he walked away from the coffin in the earth. He hadn't let his sister see, and she was trying too hard to simply get through the day, and she didn't need any other reason to become more upset. But he grieved James's loss too, in his own way.

'It was... it was the fever.' Alexander explained. 'He caught it from Duke William that night at the Ball. Thankfully baby Jonathan only had a stomach bug, and not the fever too. But Arry came downstairs the next morning, and everything was fine, and when she returned, we found a him lying in his own sick. It took all night, and I waited outside the door the entire time.'

Scarlett's hand flickered forward, as if she would try to take his hand in hers. Alexander noticed it out of the corner of his eye, and silently begged her to take it.

'I'm so sorry.' She said softly.

'Thank you. It was...it was not... it was awful.' He said, recalling the memories of that day. The waiting, the utter terror at the lack of news. The screams he heard just as day broke, when he knew on no uncertain terms what had transpired.

His sisters screams when he died still haunted him to that day. He hoped he would never lose anyone like that, anyone he cared about like that. It's was just too awful.

'He was completely healthy the day before. The day of the Ball, he was fine. And then suddenly, he wasn't.' Alexander said, feeling the lump rise slowly in his throat.

Although he didn't know it, he hadn't actually told anyone about what had happened that day. He himself had never had told his side of the tale. Alexander had been so strong throughout, looking after his newly widowed sister and younger siblings, that no one had asked him how he was grieving. Scarlett was the first person to ask him personally.

'He... he was... just so full of life. He was always joking around or teasing about something. And the way he was with Arry... they were the most perfectly matched people I've ever seen. They were... just so happy... with each other.' Alexander said, fighting back the tears that had started to appear in his eyes.

Scarlett nodded comfortingly.

'And to me... he was... irritating most of the time. Because I was never... supposed to like him. He was the arrogant lord who had made my sister fall for him. And at first... I didn't. But he too managed to...show me... that he was actually... a good man... one of the best I ever knew... when he wasn't pointing crossbows at Clara.'

Alexander began to sniffle as the first few tears began to run down his face, and he was completely unable to stop them.

'He was... a good man. And he... deserved so much better.'

He missed James too. He too was hurting and grieving. And he had not been able to grieve as he had been so strong for everyone else. All the pent up rage, anger, desperation, despair at his death finally began to pour out of Alexander as he spoke, releasing the words he wish he had said months before.

Scarlett seemed a little taken aback at the sight of Alexander beginning to cry in front of her.

However, he couldn't really see properly as his vision was clouded by fresh tears.

James had been his friend, as well as his brother in law. He was never again going to talk to him, never going to have those friendly conversations, never going to pass him in the hall.

Alexander missed his friend.

He truly did.

And after so long of keeping a hold of his emotions, they all finally came to a head.

And Alexander lost his control.

His shoulders fell forward as his heat felt like it was going to cave in around his heart. Fresh tears sprung from his eyes.

'I'm sorry.' He managed to tell Scarlett. 'I just... I only...'

'Shh, it's alright.' Scarlett said, taking a small step towards him. He could only just about make out the outline of her red hair through the tears that clouded his eyes.

Alexander sobbed. Properly sobbed for the first time since he lost his friend.

He'd been so strong, and so protective of his family, that he'd had no space for his own feelings, which were too powerful to be denied. Grief overcame him in a way it hadn't before.

Then, suddenly, he felt a strange weight on his shoulders, and grunted in surprise as something collided with his front as well. Wiping away tears, he blinked to see his vision clouded by red hair.

Scarlett's hair.

She was embracing him, her arms flung wide around him, and holding him tightly.

'I'm so sorry. So very sorry.' She whispered to him.

Alexander was a little Frozen in shock.

She was embracing him. She was holding him in her arms. Truly holding him as he wept.

He had only ever dreamed of this, that one day she would hold him in her arms. But he hadn't imagined it like this. Not when his soul felt so heavy with grief.

He clung to her, as tightly as he was able. She was the only thing keeping him grounded, the only thing keeping him from falling into his grief, never to recover.

Alexander wept in Scarlett's arms. Truly sobbed for the first time since James's death. And Scarlett was there every second.

Eventually, Alexander's chest began to relax, just a little. Enough for him to breathe. The sobs were becoming less deep, and the tears began to slowly dry up. Alexander didn't think he had any left to cry.

But he still held onto Scarlett. His held onto his world.

Finally, his last tear dropped from his eyes, and he blinked, able to see the world again for what it was, no longer a blur.

He noticed Scarlett's hands rubbed soothing patterns on his back, and he marvelled at the way her head fit against his shoulder. Like they were two parts of a whole, that were meant to fit together. As if something had made them perfectly for each other.

She was so close, he could feel her own heart hammering against his chest. Even through the layers of clothing, he could feel it racing as if there was nothing between them.

He knew she could also feel his heart, which was mirroring hers in every way. The frantic beating of their two hearts were in time with each other, as Alexander finally plucked up the courage to pull back slightly out of Scarlett's embrace.

His arms were still around her waist, and hers around his shoulders, as they beheld the face of the other for a long moment.

Scarlett consumed every one of his senses. His eyes scanned her face, as if staring at her for the very first time. He hardly knew where to look, what to say, what to do.

But he found he didn't need to.

For after that long moment, Scarlett moved.

And Alexander found he knew exactly how to respond.

Their faces moved closer and closer together, emotions flowing freely between the two of them.

Until finally, Scarlett's lips met Alexander's.

And the world around him fell away.

It was everything he had dreamed of. The way she felt in his arms, the softness of her lips, the slight gasp of breath when he deepened the kiss slightly.

It was like the answer to a question he didn't know he had been asking his entire life.

It felt like... Home. Where he was supposed to be. Like everything was finally right in He world.

Like everything has fallen perfectly into place.

They both let their emotions consume them, and neither of them knew exactly how much time they passed together in that glade.

They broke apart, and the world came spinning back into focus.

'I...I just...' Alexander managed to utter, not completely in control of what he was saying.

Scarlett was breathing quickly, her chest rising and falling with every second. The blush that has slightly stained her cheeks before, now blossomed.

Her eyes were wide with wonder, and Alexander knew his expression was an exact mirror of hers.

'Scarlett, I...' Alexander muttered, trying his hardest to find something to say.

But then, the strongest urge he'd ever experienced in his life surged around him.

It consumed every fibre of his being, and his hands tightened around Scarlett's waist, pulling her back into him.

His lips met her desperately, unable to keep away.

He knew he should pull away. He knew he should let her go.

But he just couldn't stop. Her lips were like heaven to him, so soft and sweet. He'd never felt happier or more thrilled.

Scarlett responded in kind to. She kissed him back just as fiercely as he kissed her, her fingers winding into his slightly curling hair.

Neither of them were able to stop. Neither of them were able to pull away.

So Alexander let the world be damned, and kissed Scarlett with all the intensity he had wished to since the moment he had laid eyes on her.

Both of them were inexperienced, that much was obvious. Alexander had never shown any interest in girls before that, and Scarlett had never been allowed to have much interest in anyone.

But they learnt together.

It wasn't perfect, but it was still everything Alexander had dreamed of.

They eventually broke apart, both of them taking deep gulps of air to try and breathe. But Alexander glanced at Scarlett and saw a wide grin on her face, which made his heart soar.

'Would it be terrible of me to admit,' Scarlett began, 'That I've wanted to do that since the ball?'

Alexander didn't think it was possible for his smile to grow any wider, and yet somehow it did.

'You're not alone in that.' He confessed.

Scarlett bit her bottom lip adorably and glanced to the ground.

Without thinking, Alexander reached forward, and curled his fingers around hers.

'But-' she began, however Alexander shook his head.

'Don't.' He begged, squeezing her hand slightly.

'You don't know what I was going to say.' She protested.

Alexander shook his head, and then gently lifted her hand up to his face, and pressed a gently kiss against the back of her hand.

'You were going to say something about how this could never happen.' He said.

The words hung over the two of them like a storm cloud, constant and ominous.

Scarlett sighed.

'You don't know Nerissa. What she would do to you, what she would do to me!'

'I don't care what she do- Alexander began, but Scarlett cut him off.

'That's very noble, but she tried to execute Bianca, and she didn't do anything wrong. She was just in her way. I think the only reason I'm still alive is that she thinks she can control me. If that illusion shatters, who knows what she'll do.'

'Then you need to leave. You need to get out of her power.' Alexander pleaded with her.

But, to his disappointment, she shook her head.

'I can't. I can never leave.'

'Why? You need to be safe!'

'I am safe. As long as I keep my head down and do as she says. But the palace is my home. And it's Bianca's Home. And it was my father's Home too. I can't abandon it, or my people. If Bianca never returns, I need to protect them from Nerissa.'

Alexander knew she was right. Deep down, he knew. But part of him still didn't want it admit it.

She needed to be safe, he needed her to be safe. From what he had heard about her stepmother from Scarlett and from Bianca, he knew that she had to get out of the court to be able to live freely.

But he knew that she was right. It was her home, her father's legacy. Of course she wouldn't leave it easily.

So, instead, he leant forward so his forehead was pressed against hers, their hands still clasped together tightly.

'We will find a way.' He promised her. 'We'll outsmart Nerissa, and you will be free of her. You, Bianca and your people will all be free of her.'

'Free to do what?' She asked coyly, a small grin growing on her face.

'Free to follow your heart.' Alexander breathed. 'Or at least free enough to see me again.'

Scarlett nodded slightly.

'I want that more than anything else in the world.'

'So don't ever say we can't be together. Because I will live here in the forest and wait for you everyday if that's what it takes.' He told her.

She laughed a little.

'You sound like you want to copy Bianca's lifestyle.'

'Want is the wrong word. Will tolerate is probably more accurate.' He told her.

She giggled at little.

'How far is it to Rault?'

'Two days walk.'

'So, how often can you come here?' She asked bluntly.

Alexander beamed.

'About once a month. Maybe more frequently if our situation changes.'

Scarlett pulled back a little so she could meet his eye.

'Well, if I'm only going to get to see you once a month, we better make full use of our time together.' She told him.

'And how, m'lady, do you propose to do that?' Alexander asked, with a wide grin on his face.

'I wonder...' she said, tilting her head up slightly, and Alexander knew exactly what she was asking for.

One of his hands dove into her luscious red hair, and the other snaked around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

And then finally, his lips pressed against hers once more.

After the kiss, they talked for hours about nothing in particular, finding themselves almost already accustomed to each other's company.

And of course, there were other kisses.

They only knew that when it ended, the Sky was beginning to darken, and Alexander knew he had to start heading back. He had a long journey ahead of him, and he had to get back before his sister grew too suspicious and told Bianca. That was a conversation he rather wanted to avoid after the last one.

But he loathed to part with her. The hours together didn't see me like brought. He was almost certain that no amount of time with her would ever be enough. And he journey was long enough that he knew another visit wouldn't be any time soon. A whole month! How was he going to manage?

But they would get through it. Alexander was determined to get them through it. And price was worth having such a wonderful girl making him feel this way. She was worth it.

And so, Alexander knew that soon he was going to be one more thing. More than a brother, more than a son, more than a brother in law.

He was now a partner. And heaven help the people who tried to stop him.

For try they did.

* * *

A.N; Hello Everyone.

I realise I seem to have dropped off the face of the planet recently, but I promise that I have been working on this story, and I will begin to publish the last part of AHJ soon. The chapters in the next part are a little longer than normal, so it's taking more time. But it will go up soon. Thank you so much for sticking with me this long, and hope you enjoyed these two lovebird while you wait.


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